I don’t know you.
And I don’t want to know you.

I can’t handle the clash between my imagination and your reality,
I see serenity in you, I see wisdom in you,
That which shall be shattered once I know you,
You are divine, you are strong and you are content,
But how much truth can there be in my ignorant thoughts?
After all, everything is grey and everyone is broken,
And I am incapable to bear the knowledge of your brokenness,
How can something so firm be hollow inside?

I will carry around my falsified truth of you,
Rather than to see you lose what you hold,
Rather than to know that you are just another flesh and bone,
Entangled in the past,
Betrayed by cruel dreams,
Running in circles of your own mind,
And waiting for the same escape as anyone,
No!
In my imagination, you are much more!

I don’t know you.
And I don’t want to know you.
Or do i know too much about you?

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