Creative Writing

If I were to write you a letter,

I’d leave it blank

and you’d be able to make out the words on your own.

You could read the crinkled corners-

Know that I’ve carried this letter in my pocket

and would take it out when I felt like

I had the confidence to say something,

but I’d tuck it back into my jeans.

You could read the coffee stains-

A letter I’d sit down with at breakfast

A date with words that teased me,

words that appeared jumbled in my head,

a puzzle I could not piece together.

You could read the faint mark of blue ink-

See how I held the pen like a rifle,

this letter was the battlefield.

I hoped to lay down the letters “U” and “I”,

but instead lightly tapped the paper

with the tip of the pen then drew away

and capped it.

Understand that I do not know how to use my own weaponry.

Maybe my writing utensils would be better off in the knife drawer.

You could read the slight tear at the bottom-

Know I had this letter pinched between my fingers,

ready to rip it to shreds,

but I caught you looking at me

and set it down again.

You could read the faded marks of water droplets.

A letter I sat down with at my desk

and accidentally left my tears behind.

I didn’t meant to send you a dose of my insecurity.

I didn’t want to send you a letter with a return address for pity, but even so,

If I were to write you a letter,

I’d give you this one.

It wouldn’t need any words

for you to figure out the ones I was looking for,

but was too afraid to see on the paper.