Unspoken Letters

I wrote your name
in the dust on the sill—
It stayed till the evening,
Till the air turned still.
The winter moon
wore a borrowed light,
And shadows danced—
A fragile fight.

But your voice—
It lingers—
In the spaces,
In the quiet.

Unspoken letters—
They burn in my chest—
Words unsaid,
The ones I confess.
Like an old song
sung to an empty room,
Falling stars
that never bloom.

Your silhouette
in a photograph—
Faded edges,
A time that passed.
The willow whispered
where we used to stand,
But the echoes vanished—
Slipped through my hand.

Unspoken letters—
They burn in my chest—
Words unsaid,
The ones I confess.
Like an old song
sung to an empty room,
Falling stars
that never bloom.

Oh—
The laughter once we knew—
A fleeting warmth,
A sky so blue.
For a moment,
It all felt right—
Before the weight
returned to night.


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