You Can't Know

Trigger Warning: Mention of death, assumptions getting people killed

You just can't.

Really, he's not like you, you're not like him, you're not like them.

All the time.

Not knowing. I can never know.

I haven't seen. If I saw, I might know.

But I am not him, so I can not know.

I can never know what goes on in a head not my own.

Of course.

But I didn't say what was.

Only that you can't know, and now,

Now it is all about how I can't.

And I can't.

But neither can you.

And maybe, just maybe, I have more to work with,

More "maybe,"

More "been somewhere like that,"

More things in common to work with,

That maybe I have a better idea than you think I could.

Not a "know," never a "know."

Like you said, I can't know.

And like you implied, not realizing it:

You can't know.

I can't know.

Only he knows unless he tells us.

And you spend your life insisting that he can't.

So I can't know.

Because I'm not like him.

Just like you're not like him.

And you can't know either.

All we have are guesses, assumptions,

And the ones you're making have killed.