Unkempt
I. I wanted to send you a letter of all the things I cannot say out loud but you would just read my words and tuck them far away into the back of your head. That’s how you are, I think. I’ve decided to keep them for myself, store them in the way my hands move towards you.
II. I want to shake you until you yell at me. Anything at all. But I will learn to swallow this all in silence and wake up early to sneak away from our bed before you can ever ask me if I’m fine.
III. I wanted to tell you this all today so I started to but I just felt guilty instead. I am wondering if we have too much space. Or too little to get lost in.
IV. Remember how you always make it so we are touching when we lay in bed? Is it because you miss me or because you don’t want to ever feel that distance?
V. I wonder if I tell all my secrets in my sleep.
