Do you know me?

You did not tell me you sold crack.
Who are you?
Would you sell me all your lies and call it a profit just to have me be yours?
How expensive am I?
Do I break the bank?
Would you rob another just to make the take?
Am I your hostage? Or am I your keep?
Am I yours to be kept when I’m locked in deep? The treasures you leave behind when you open your vault but you let others take the blame as you evade fault. I want to say I hate you or at least say I don’t know you. But my body does and my heart does. Two facets that know you infinitely and yet intimately and I feel every bit of exposure in your gaze, in your hate.
Do you love me?
Or do you hate me?
Or do you just want me in your hatred and dress it up in love?
I don’t feel like I know you.
So how could I love you?
Which I guess begs the question…Do you know me?