I wrote down what happened.

Then, I set it to the side and forgot it.

Lately, I’ve been immersed in my past…

which led me back to this note.

I’d write it here, but the ink is smudged.

Every word… now blurred together.

I remember who it was about, but can’t seem to gather the details.

What’d you do to me?

I left to confront you; the note tucked away in my pocket.

I could see it on your face.

You knew why I was there.

As you raised your hand to greet me, I noticed the black on the side of your palm.

Why’d you do this to me?

There’s fear behind your smile.

Perhaps if not towards me, towards yourself.

You knew that you’d simply just delay me.

After some time, I’d no longer need this note to remember.

You should’ve burned it when you had the chance.

Instead, you chose to leave a clue…

one that led me back to you.

Was it to inflict pain on a wound I’d believed was closed? 

Maybe now I’ll receive the answers.

Only time shall tell your true intentions.

And when the truth escapes your mouth,

I’ll, once more, write it down.

Only this time, I’ll be sure to make a copy.