They Don’t Even Know Me

 the days keep flying by.

everything’s moving, shifting, evolving.

and somewhere in the middle of it,

i found myself 

or at least the version of me that’s willing to be seen now.


they say they love me

but most don’t even know me.


they love the echo,

not the origin.

they love the smile,

not the silence that birthed it.


they called me “bro”

but flinched every time the real me got too loud.

they liked the light,

but never stuck around long enough to feel the fire.


and now?


i’m not available.

not performing.

not hoping they get it one day.

not shrinking just to stay digestible.

i’m still building.


ten toes in the storm.

inked in truth.

body turning to armor.

voice carrying codes.


i don’t need closure.

i need momentum.


and if they ever feel me in a dream

or hear my name in a lyric

just know: 

i used to ask myself 

how am i supposed to move when all these people that “love” me 

don’t know me.

eventually, i got tired of asking.

i made peace with their version of me before i became my own.


Makaveli out.


eventually, i got tired of asking.


i made peace with their version of me

the moment i became my own.


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