I Don’t Know You.

By Hailey Topolovac, TIWP Student

I don’t know you.
You know nearly everything there is to know about me, yet you don’t know me either.

Though, there are some things I know about you:

I know that you have the sweetest smile I’ve ever been lucky enough to see. And I know that seeing you smile makes me smile.
I know that.

I know that your eyes are an icy, greyish haze. The color’s a blur of different, hesitant shades, as fragile and confused as I know you can be when you stop hiding.
I know that.

I know that I don’t understand you. I suppose I never will. You shut people out while drawing them close at the same time. I’ll never understand why or how you manage to do that.
I know that.

I know that you walk funny. I mean, not funny. But funny. You have this odd, soldier march? Such firm, confident strides.
I know that.

I know that you bite your lip when you’re thinking, and you run your fingers through your hair when you’re nervous. I also know you have no idea I know this.
I know that.

I know that you can be cold, and harsh. You lash out sometimes, when you’re scared.
I know that.

I know that I’ll keep pretending I don’t care about your dumb smile, and mixed up eyes, and insanely weird walk, and, okay I’m rambling.
I know that.

I know that I don’t know you.
You know nearly everything there is to know about me, yet you don’t know me either.

I don’t know you.
I know that.

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