#Things left Unsaid

[nongiftedpoet]

How does a poet become… a poet?

And what makes a poem… a poem?

- nongiftedpoet

[star-struck09]

I spend my time writing you letters you will never read.

[dumblr]

I hope that someday someone looks into my eyes, and finally sees the universe inside.

[headstro]

[spiritualgangstrb4be]

If you feel nothing then why are you shaking

[six-white-venus]

“Tell me something about yourself.”

i) i couldn't pick up a phone call without trembling for two years. seeing my loved ones take a call felt like someone was squeezing my heart in their fist. dread tastes like bile and something terribly bitter. it steals your breath and weaves with it a tapestry of your darkest fears.

i used to pick up a call and all i could think was,

“who died this time?”

ii) i have a pseudo-degree in hindi but still can't speak the language. it should fill me with shame, maybe. i don't particularly care; i’ve never liked it much. my teacher would be disappointed. but not upset. never upset when it came to me. she used to say i was her smartest student. i will deny the statement till i die. i used to laugh when she sang along to old movie songs and drank coffee from her bafflingly huge cup. i look at her handwriting on my notebook now, the flowy, graceful scrawl of her letters and talk to the sky,

“i'm sorry i didn't come to your funeral.”

i like to think she isn't upset.

iii) i've only liked someone once. maybe that isn't the right word for it. i’ve only loved someone once.

no, that isn't right, either. i've loved all my lives and held on to every stranger that crosses me with the awed reverence of a devotee. i’ve loved people that i'll never see again and ones that i hope to see every day of my miserable, beautiful life. i love so easily. i love so terribly.

what i mean to say is: i've only once ripped my heart out of my chest and set it on fire just because my beloved asked. maybe love isn't supposed to hurt so much. maybe i'm doing it all wrong. but i loved him. i don't know what else to call it.

iv) i keep chasing ghosts. it's all i do. sometimes, it makes me think that maybe, i'm the one haunting them.

i still check if my pencil is sharp enough by poking it on my cheek, just like my teacher used to (hindi, unwavering confidence, adoration, a mug of coffee. i’ve never seen bravery look so beautiful). the songs that kept me alive were the ones recommended to me by the boy who broke my heart (crooked smiles, green sandals, valorant, the word no. he knew my number like the back of his hand, the way i thought i knew him). i still have a letter i wrote to the girl whose love i threw away without a second glance. (books, glasses and whispered secrets. the apology rots under my desk drawer and smells like shame). i have the flowers that grew in my late grandpa’s house (pink, white, laughter, death) and a page from my uncle’s messy notes (can you hear it? can you hear my scream, my pride, my misery whenever i say ‘i’m going to be a doctor’? can you hear the name of a dead man sitting on my tongue, bleeding, bleeding, always bleeding? can you?) and a stolen polaroid (frozen happiness. sterile and pretty and traceable. it makes me want to rip out my throat) pressed between the pages of my notebook. i look in the mirror and watch them all be helplessly chained down to me. i tell them,

“i can never let you go. i’m sorry that i'm not sorry.”

v) all my life, i’ve run away from my problems. i’m so, so afraid. it scares me, the possibility that this is who i always will be. i run and i sit still, frozen in fear. i don't know what to do. i’m a coward; that's all i've always been.

“I hate cucumbers.”

[pluviophile-who-likes-coffee]

Don't leave things unsaid. Even if you're scared as hell to say them.

Whispers of You by Catherine Cowles

[lostmf]

I was six when you left

And I have been six ever since ..

[merthecure]

i want us to dance on rock with you by Michael Jackson all night

[mooneclaire]

i didn’t regret choosing myself the moment i knew i had to decide between continue loving you or completely losing it, but choosing myself had never felt this selfish i ought to lose different versions of you all at once. i’ve been convincing myself that the way i ended things could’ve been gentler, yet since when is a breakup i dreaded the most gentle? i loved you in ways i’d never do again, ways that made me involuntarily grieve and mourn for remembering you.

they said that love is a choice and is always about choosing the person every day. but by choosing him every day, a piece of me loses until i'm nothing but an anguished, bitter little girl asking why life is nothing but unfair when things don't go her way no matter what good she does.

[crmsnmth]

Just in Passing

Did she ever mention me? Just happy she was with you and not me? Did she say those words and then come home to me? Hearts on her sleeve and Magic cards on the floor of her truck It hurt even more as she insulted my intelligence

Was I ever brought up? The used to be boy she broke The boy she drove to insanity Or was I more of a scream in a hurricane? Did my presence ever really mean anything? Just enough that I can feel a little guilt It doesn't need to stay I just wanted you to miss me for a moment

Someone told me that you married her Traded hands for last names And someone else told me you got divorced already Who would have thought it wouldn't last? But I guess we have come common ground Should we maybe build a dialogue? Let's call it karma I lost her hand, you lost her name I hope it drives you insane just like it did me

I never liked you even though we had never met Your face was blurred and you face appeared next to hers And I slit my wrists for the goodness of her smile Chicken out at the last second Like I always fucking do

Did she ever mention me? Just once?

[nongiftedpoet]

“What is home?”

It’s a place surrounded with books annotated with emotions, aged papers with messy handwritings, piano hugged by vines, sounds of ticking old clock filling the air, soothing smell of scented candles, magical library with books roaming around, a lake in front of the house accompanied by a kitten, near a garden filled with white flowers on the hillside, and with you by my side.

- nongiftedpoet

[urbancryptidwithchronicheadaches]

[dumblr]

"You will always hold a special part of me. You will always be that special person i think about when someone asks me about the best thing that ever happened to me. I will always imagined you as someone i deeply cared about. I know we both tried to be better for each other but we were just simply too different. I couldn't handle the arguments anymore, maybe because i am weak. I'm sorry things turned out this way but i still hope that i will see you again someday. Iam confident that your future will be the brightest and rewarding. Iam already so proud of you."

[anjwritesthings]

⭐ SEQUEL ANNOUNCEMENT!!! ⭐

There's a saying, "if only we had more time, if I had said what I felt..." to the ones that we love... but what if one didn't or couldn't? The second and final installment of the Heartlines duology, "Things Left Unsaid" is vol. 2 - a collection of poems that are about incomplete love stories, star-crossed lovers, tragic tales, regrets, unspoken confessions, the "what if's?" and so much more!

Where "A Glimpse of Love" was a peek into the various aspects of love in all its forms, this one tells a different story, a little bit more... emotional... this time around, but still just as important to tell; to remind us that when we have the chance, we should take the opportunity to say what's in our hearts 💙

"Things Left Unsaid" is out on Dec 17th, 2024!!!

[spiritualgangstrb4be]

Pure love