What I Didn't Know

I never knew that my hands could shake

More aggressively than my broken washing machine

I never knew my mouth could feel more dry

Than a towel after a long swim

I never knew my face could get as hot

As my fireplace after playing in the snow

I never knew I could feel so bare

Like a child shaking in the rain

I never knew fear would look me in the eye

Like the last glance before a long departure

But 

I knew how to hit my washing machine when it got too loud

I knew how to turn on the faucet

I knew how to open the door to feel the icy temperatures

I knew how to find shelter

And

I knew how to look away