You swore you knew me, claimed you saw the depth,

The secrets I guarded with my final breath.

You knew my coffee order and my childhood fear,

And you used those small details to keep me so near.

You thought you knew my weakness, the little loose thread,

The things I avoided, the words I left unsaid.

You said, "I know you so well," with that smug little smirk,

While you steadily managed to get on my nerk.

But darling, you knew a convenient myth,

The edited version you were happy to live with.

You knew the soft lighting, the gentle, safe part,

Not the razor-sharp edges around my true heart.

The real me is loud. She's messy and proud.

She takes up too much space in any old crowd.

She laughs at your jokes when they’re actually funny,

And doesn't rely on your approval for money.

The day that you left, that's when I finally found

The true meaning of 'known,' on solid, single ground.

Because the me that you walked away from? She wasn't real.

The woman I am now is the one that I feel.

You didn't know me. You only knew how I'd act.

And the irony's sweet: I never needed your fact.

I'm finally known by the best one of all:

The one who picks herself up after your fall.