Subject : Things I Didn't Know

From:

To:

Subject: Things I didn’t know

I have tried to write this letter in so many different words; different fonts; different types of pens; with humour; without humour… but I hold you accountable for how you take this edition, as my ink stained fingers find traces of scarlet near the tips. I have tried to focus on what my mind wants to convey, of what I know, but I can’t help but write about the mysteries of what I don’t. Although there’s no point in blaming me, for I have forever lost all my knowledge in trying to learn you. 

I thought I knew everything, what a foolish thought that must be when I didn’t even know to pick up on subtle glances, until the sly glint in your eyes met mine 

I frowned upon youthful indiscretion, until I started receiving the clandestine scented letters every night

I didn’t know how one could so nonchalantly glide across the room, appealing to every single soul

I didn’t know how one could breathe in such perfect cadence

I didn’t know how one could laugh a simple laugh and put the sun to shame, all the while revealing nothing about themselves

You could claim that’s what drew me — the need and the want to be proficient in your language

I never knew why. 

Still don’t.

And although my heart has wandered past your home, 

I’d like to believe that I will always be keeper to a key

And although I’ve tried convincing myself a countless times you weren’t an evanescent scar

Here I am, look how you’ve made me, crumpling up paper, writing masqueraded folklore in careless secrecy.