There are words I never said. Not because I didn’t feel them, but because they stuck— right between my throat and my pride.
By Emma 6 months ago in Poets
In a garden where no one dares to sleep, A crimson poppy begins to weep. Her petals fall in a fragile heap, Guarding secrets she vowed to keep.
This world is a place of fleeting grace Where smiles are masks on a hollow face Where hearts are broken in silent space And love is lost without a single trace
I held your picture softly in my hand, Dreaming of a life we had carefully planned. But love slipped away like shifting sand,
I remember the walls— they didn’t see me exist, but they felt me leaving. The wooden floors held stories of midnight giggles,
I buried my voice in quiet places, where no one dared to look. Smiles became my armor, but inside I was breaking— piece by fragile piece.
I never knew silence could feel so heavy. It sat between us like a stranger—uninvited, yet impossible to push away. I wanted to speak.
It didn’t happen all at once. There was no grand event. Just a slow quieting. A fading of noise—outside and inside. The world kept moving,
