Know Thyself
Everyone wants to be your reference
To read themselves into your words
To paint specifics over your vague portraits
Even when you're just drawing yourself
Everyone wants to know your subject
To claim authority over friendship
To be there in the heart of it
Lyrical peeping Toms
We only know what you show us…
Or rather that's the lie you tell
Your intentional imprecision
Is faulty camouflage
And yet, I still love every syllable. Just another one of them.
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