Friendship
Words I Never Said Out Loud
The morning light slipped through the blinds of Amara’s Brooklyn apartment, casting thin stripes across her hardwood floor. She sat cross-legged on a faded rug, a notebook open in her lap, her pen heavy with ink and hesitation. At 27, Amara was a social worker by day, a poet by night—or she had been, before the weight of her unspoken truths silenced her words. Today, though, the dawn felt like a quiet invitation, a chance to write the letter she’d never dared, to the parts of herself she’d kept hidden for too long.
By Shohel Rana8 months ago in Poets
