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I see you

I see you. I see you sitting there. Smirking. All cigarette smoke and tattoos and bravado and pride. You’re eyes narrow and daring. But playful too. I see you sitting there. Thinking. Thinking you have me all figured out. Amused and proud and accomplished and all the things. Because you finally cracked the code. And solved the god damn mystery. You make me sick. I see you sitting there. Taunting me. Relishing in one thing. One thing, the one thing, that you know will get me all aggravated and flustered and wild. That one being the thought of you knowing me. You figuring me out. And yet. What you don’t know that you don’t know is me. What you don’t know that you don’t know is that for someone so stoic, I cry a lot. Sometimes about you. Sometimes not. What you don’t know that you don’t know is that I am as arrogant as I am insecure. As brave as I am scared. As together as I am undone. As surrounded as I am lonely. As okay as I am not. I’m equal parts long, summers evening- balmy and steady and noise-filled; and equal parts hurricane. Just as noisy. But in a different, and more violent way. I am a riddle I can’t figure out. And so. As much as I want to walk over there and stupid slap that smirk from your stupid lips, I also want to kiss you so damn hard that I forgot all the reasons I hate you. And you forget all the reasons you are amused. And proud. And accomplished. And, all the things. But I won’t do either. And so, neither will you. So you just keep sitting there. Smirking. And thinking. And taunting. Just know that I see you. Even if you don’t see me.

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