you don't know me

how much more
misunderstood
can you be,
or anyone for
that matter.
you aren't sure,
but you'll find another
level before days end.
another word
written, or said.
a nod a glance,
the words you leave
sitting on
the table, unspoken.
there isn't just
one key
that unlocks
the self within
but a thousand.
unlike oscar wilde
who feared not
being misunderstood,
you cringe
and lose sleep.