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rebecca-mcdadePoems
How many people know you? Know how many times you roll up the cuffs of your sleeves when it’s warm? Or know how many sugars you take in your tea? Or how you handle yellow bees? How many people know what you tell yourself before you go to sleep? Do you count sheep? Or the stars on your ceiling? Or your scars that are healing? Do people know you have those? Nobody knows. How many people know you? Know how much you resent the gap between your teeth? Or what number you group things in when you’re counting? Or what the smile on each side of your face means? Or where to find the seams Where you’ve been torn open just a bit. Where those little slits under your raised eyebrow are. Do people look hard? How many people know you? Know about how much having dirt under your fingernails drives you mad? Or how you don’t like to drive in the rain? And how you add brown sugar to everything? And how you wish you had wings To fly away over all these people who think they know you When they don’t. They don’t know the first thing. But they never will. You won’t let them in. How many people know you? Sometimes, I certainly don’t.
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Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC
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How many people know you? Know how many times you roll up the cuffs of your sleeves when it’s warm? Or know how many sugars you take in your tea? Or how you handle yellow bees? How many people know what you tell yourself before you go to sleep? Do you count sheep? Or the stars on your ceiling? Or your scars that are healing? Do people know you have those? Nobody knows. How many people know you? Know how much you resent the gap between your teeth? Or what number you group things in when you’re counting? Or what the smile on each side of your face means? Or where to find the seams Where you’ve been torn open just a bit. Where those little slits under your raised eyebrow are. Do people look hard? How many people know you? Know about how much having dirt under your fingernails drives you mad? Or how you don’t like to drive in the rain? And how you add brown sugar to everything? And how you wish you had wings To fly away over all these people who think they know you When they don’t. They don’t know the first thing. But they never will. You won’t let them in. How many people know you? Sometimes, I certainly don’t.
rebecca-mcdade
Written by
rebecca-mcdade
Scottish
Feb 4, 2014
Feb 4, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC
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