a courier

he always walks behind me
and talks to himself.

actually, he is talking to me,
but I never listen.

he attempts to reach out to my ears,
to grab my elbow.

he is calling me by my name.
 
(I am wandering how does he know my name).

yet I’ll never turn back
and ask him to stop, because I know the reason he does it.

he is a courier, sent from above
to deliver a message with the truth,
which I refuse to know.

so do you, never turning back to me.

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