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I (Don't) Want to Know You

I don’t want you to know me from a hundred fourty
Letters printed post a spurt of fleeting happy moments
And profile pictures captured from angles becoming
Hue and contrast tinkered, I don’t want you to know me.

I don’t want to know you from a show reel of self-portraits
With eye line pivoting off centre chasing false reflection
Words condensed with sweetness charmingly deceptive
Signals mixed, intent concealed, I don’t want to know you.

No, I want to know you when your hair is tangled up and messy
When your legs are swollen and your eyelids looming heavy
When you’ve given up on trying to impress and there’s
One too many wrinkles on your dress, I want to know you.

And I want you to know me when there’s nobody around to notice
The way my confidence gets shaken by the morals of ghost stories
And how I hold on to every word misplaced because it’s honest
Our fingers linked, entwined, stealing light from the sunrise,
I want you to know me.

- vktr
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