Nice Knowing You, Real World

 Salutations, from one who is well known.

 However I dare say, I do have come to know you.

 You know how to clip my wings. 

Meanwhile, I know not to keep my feet on the rug which only gets pulled out from beneath them. 

I know not of the sins I have yet to atone for. Of exactly how many lies as have incurred how many debts on how many truths which would be paid off when or for how long are how many still due? I turn to hope, the cradle of this sinful existence, which is also what helps me forget. In blissful ignorance, I wonder just how long can the boughs of my broken belief continue to withstand that cradle. 

My eyes are open, yet I am blind. I know all who once beckoned me close, tell me instead to keep my distance. What was, is but an illusion in the face of what is, and can still be. 

I know that I, the ascetic, seek refuge among heretics, knowing that passage shall not be granted on my terms. My fists still continue to pound the door to their profane sanctuary, knowing not that I am only too late. 

 I know now, that I should be knowing not to know, as this knowledge is how you have come to know me.