Let Me In…

…Let me out.

Just so you know, I know.

I’ve always known.  I know what you did.
And, after I saw you, I know YOU know I know.
Brilliant.
Your awkwardness and bee-line to be anywhere else, except in that space, told me everything I needed to know.
Your reaction showed me your guilt and your shame.
You wear it like your new skin, which really, is just shedding of your old skin
– your true skin,
Who you are underneath the stories and masks and pretense of goodness.
Decent people don’t wear virtue as a means to an end.
So quite pretending that’s a label you can wear
It’s haute couture to your thrift store design and I’ve never been so bold (or tacky) to directly ask.
I can’t even take when it’s given. 
I am so broken by experience I can’t trust what’s in front of me, what’s in the moment or even what I know to be good.
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