Skip to main content

Unspoken Love

It sounds cliché, but this is what I feel now,
I’m tired of denial, tired of the vow
To keep my heart in quiet restraint,
Tired of fighting, but I can't complain.

It hurts—this silence I wear so well,
Each unspoken word, a quiet hell.
I know you don’t feel the same way,
I know you look at others, while I stay
In the shadows, just an ordinary face,
Busy with friends, lost in life’s pace.

I’m not unique, not someone who shines,
Not the girl you’d notice between the lines.
I know I’m not what you’d find intriguing,
Just another soul, wandering, fleeting.

And if you ever feel like a homebody yapper,
You’re wrong—I see so much more than chatter.
Haven’t you felt it in the way I look at you?
You’re not ordinary—you’re someone true.

You’re cool, amazing, with depths I admire,
Talented, kind, with a quiet fire.
You’re more than perfect, just being you,
No need for change, no need for something new.

I know I was quiet when we first met,
It’s because I was nervous, not sure how to forget
The overwhelming love that stirred within,
The way you made me feel whole again.

Thank you for being you, for being real,
For making me remember how it feels to feel.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

safe love

when you find your people, the air feels lighter, your heart rests softer, and every smile is true. you don’t have to measure your words, or hold your laughter in your chest. even in silence, you’re understood, and love grows quietly, endlessly. but love is not a prison. if your wings feel clipped, if your light is dimmed, if you fear to shine, then listen to your heart, and think again.
Post a Comment
Read more

Saturn

  one night, the sky turned gold, and silence felt like gravity, soft, invisible, inescapable. it told me; this too is part of becoming. i used to think home had walls. now I know it’s what lingers, like rings around a quiet planet. so I carry Saturn in my skin, not to escape, but to stay grounded while I learn how to float.
Post a Comment
Read more

a Different Kind of Poem

  Not every poem wears the shape of love, some carry the weight of warmth unspoken, the echo of footsteps down quiet halls, the hush before dinner is served. Watched something last night, "1 Kakak 7 Ponakan", faces I didn’t know felt like mirrors. The way they laughed, argued, stayed, like they had nowhere else to be but with each other. It made me wonder, when was the last time I looked around and saw  enough ? There are days this place feels too quiet. But maybe it’s not the silence that’s hollow, maybe I’ve just forgotten how full it really is. They say time spent is the only thing we never truly own. Some spend it on screens, some in rooms filled with laughter. Not everyone gets to choose. And me? I’ve been chasing loud things, forgetting that the softest hours, the ones spent doing nothing with people who’ve always been there, are the rarest kind. We search so far for what’s already sitting across the table.
Post a Comment
Read more