Poems I Wrote for People Who Never Knew

Poems I Wrote for People Who Never Knew

Genre: Poets / Romance / Heartbreak

Challenge Fit: Things You Can’t Say Out Loud

There are things I’ve never said aloud.

Not because I didn’t feel them.

But because I wasn’t brave enough. Or the timing was wrong. Or the world didn’t pause long enough for me to speak.

So instead, I wrote poems.

Some ended up on napkins in coffee shops. Others stayed buried in the Notes app of my phone, never named, never shared.

They were little confessions. Tiny time capsules. Love letters with no address.

Here are a few of them.

1. To the Woman on the Train at 6:42 AM

You were reading The Bell Jar,

And your thumb tapped the corner of the page

Like you were keeping rhythm with some quiet song

Only you could hear.

I wanted to ask if you liked the book,

If it hurt the way it was supposed to,

Or if you were just reading it to feel seen.

You wore yellow socks with tiny planets,

And I wanted to say:

"Hey, I noticed your orbit."

But you got off three stops too early,

And I never saw you again.

I still think about your thumb,

Keeping time with your heart.

2. To My First Real Crush (Who Called Me ‘Buddy’)

I wonder if you ever knew

That I memorized your laugh

Like it was a hymn.

You sat next to me in art class

And smelled like cinnamon gum

And lavender soap.

You talked about the girl you liked

As if I wasn’t sitting right there

Dying politely.

I wrote poems on the back of my sketchbook

About how your freckles looked like stars

That only appeared in daylight.

When I moved away,

You signed my yearbook:

“Stay weird, buddy.”

I’ve never been able to hear that word the same way since.

3. To the Boy Who Only Cried Once

You were always laughing,

Telling stories too loud,

Pulling the world in with your charm.

Until that night,

When I found you sitting alone

At the bus stop,

Eyes red like you'd traded joy for silence.

You said,

“Don't tell anyone you saw me like this.”

I nodded.

And wrote a poem instead.

It ended with:

"Some people wear armor made of jokes.

When it cracks,

The honesty blinds you."

4. To the One Who Left Without Goodbye

You were in my life

For exactly 137 days.

Long enough to ruin all my favorite songs,

Short enough that I still pretend

You weren’t that important.

You said you needed time,

Then took all of mine with you.

I wrote you a poem that started like this:

"You were a storm I saw coming

But stood in anyway."

And ended like this:

"Now I check the weather twice."

I never sent it.

I figured silence was your language.

I finally learned how to speak it.

5. To the Girl Who Didn’t Know I Loved Her

You always told me

That I was your safe place.

And I told you the same,

Even though

I wanted to be the dangerous one.

The one who made your heart race,

Not just the one who helped it slow down.

You would cry into my shoulder

About people who never saw you,

While I memorized the color of your tears

And wished I was someone braver.

I wrote you a poem that said:

"I would’ve ruined everything to kiss you once."

But you fell in love with someone else.

And I let you.

Because that’s what safe places do.

6. To Myself at 19

You kept giving your heart

To people who didn’t know how to hold it.

And you called it poetry.

You apologized every time you felt too much,

Wrote sonnets as if your sadness

Could be made beautiful enough to deserve staying.

You stayed up too late

For people who fell asleep without thinking of you.

And still called them stars.

I wish I’d told you:

You are not a constellation

To be admired from afar.

You are the sky.

7. To the Stranger Who Smiled Like We Had a Secret

You bumped into me in a bookstore

And said, “Sorry, the universe is clumsy sometimes.”

You didn’t buy anything.

Just wandered.

But when you left,

You turned and smiled

Like you knew me

In another life.

I went home and wrote:

"Some souls brush past each other

Like strangers in a crowd.

But something deeper always recognizes the shape of home."

I never saw you again.

But sometimes I wonder if you found the book

I left that poem inside.

8. To You, Reading This

Maybe you’re like me.

Maybe you’ve written poems

For people who never knew.

Maybe you carry feelings

Like folded notes in your chest —

Too delicate to speak,

Too loud to ignore.

Maybe you’re still waiting for someone

To look at you

And really see you.

I hope you write it down.

I hope you feel it anyway.

I hope you know —

Even the quietest loves

Are still real.

Closing Note:

Not every poem needs a reply.

Some are just echoes

Of what we wish we could say

If only the world slowed down long enough

To listen.