there's a feeling
in my chest --
it's a chemical ache
that fizzles
like soda,
when you pop the can open,
it happens every time
i see
her.

my room --
it's away from the people,
the anxiety, 
the problems,
my grades,
my friends,
my co-workers --
it's just my room.
my sanctuary.

i can move things around
whenever i please,
shift the space
to make it more me.
it's mine.
and its peace.
it's my sanctuary.

you know that feeling?
when your heartbeat
just quietly moves
into your ears
your throat
your ribs
your skull --
like it's trying to upset you
or escape,
but you're the one
trapping it.

i felt it
when she brushed my arm
it was an accident -
maybe not..
i don't know
but my chest went loud
my heart beat picked up --
not fast,
just loud
like every part of me
was pulse
like it was screaming
for everyone to know
i was alive.
it was loud.

i could feel it
in my teeth
in my fingertips
in my stomach
my organs jumped
like i swallowed lightning.

it wasn't love --
not yet.
but something in me
already knew
how loudly she could make me feel
all my emotions flooded me at once
and it was just
a light touch.

i once had a dream.
about her, 
of course. 
who else would it have been?

and she was there --
in front of me
laughing, 
looking so
effortlessly
pretty,
like joy had learnt
how to refract
through her smile.
and she was
my girlfriend.
my
girlfriend.
and her lips --
they looked
like they were something...
between a promise
and a secret.
warm,
and soft.
i smiled
at her.
gosh.
she slowly leaned in,
and i had
plummeted
into waking.

it was just a dream.
not real.
not at all real.
but god --
it felt like solace.

her absence is a hum
beneath the streetlight.
it slips through my curtains -
silver,
never soft enough
to hush my thoughts.
give me a break.

her name is a wind,
caught behind my ribs,
blowing through
the rooms i built for her
but never locked.

every breath feels borrowed,
taken -
like she left it behind
by accident.
like her smile,
still living in the quiet
between my heartbeats.

the bed forgets
how to hold me right,
how to put me to sleep.
some nights,
loneliness is a second pillow.
other nights,
it’s her voice -
curled up
where my dreams should be.
but they aren’t.

i keep looking
for the meaning
in small things --
like in the way she says
my name,
somehow it sounds
so right.
or how silence
still answers me.

i don't exactly know
why im writing this --
maybe just to say it out loud somewhere.
you probably don't even notice the way i look at you. or maybe you do, but you just don't say anything. which somehow,
hurts worse.
its stupid, really. how a simple glance from you can rearrange my whole day. you laugh and i swear that it sounds like something that i've been trying to commit to my memory forever.
i don't need you to like me back --
i think that i just needed you to know the truth.
and maybe that's selfish, maybe that's brave, maybe it's both.
but either way,
im not sending this.
ill just keep on pretending its nothing. like i always do.

i always forget
that this globe 
spins,
even when i feel
like im stuck.
somewhere,
someone is falling in love
at the same time
that im falling apart.

...

i hold a snow globe --
the one from the family 
christmas, back in 2016.
i shake it --
watch it storm inside,
and i think,
maybe im still learning
how to settle
after everything
swirls.
after the mess.

...

the world is round,
but it never
feels like it comes back
to me.

funny,
how a person can turn into
a kind of silence --
like a voice
that never even left,
but stopped answering
all the calls
you swore
were mutal. 

you had called it
fading.
i called it
staying
in the smaller ways --
as in
the way i check
my phone
at dusk
like a ritual,
as if you'd just
appear.
because the sky
turns soft enough
for second
chances.

if missing someone
counts as calling --
i never really stopped
calling
for you.

i don't miss her per se
not really-
not the way she stirred her coffee counter-clockwise
or how she spoke my name
ever so softly
like a secret
no one else could hold

i miss the feeling
of her-
that imagined life
woven in between shared glances
and almosts
the home i built
in her soft
gummy smile
before i saw the cracks

i miss what never even happened
the parallel version of us
the ones who stayed.
is that still missing her?
or just missing
being wanted
by someone
who never really could?

my ache has no address
no home
yet it answers
to her name
every time
like it's all i know
like she's all i know

texts never sent, is nysterie's second ever project. consisting of five texts, going to either a crush, a friend, a parent, enemy or even her future self.. somehow.

these unsent texts reveal her true feelings on the situation and what she should've said in the moment, but never did.

https://textsneversent.straw.page << the project page

the texts:
- i just needed you to know
- drifting
- im still me
- not worth my voice
- one for the books

i always say
that im fine.
its like driftwood --
something to
cling to
while the waves
pull harder.

but my soul...
it doesnt
float
like how it
used to.
instead,
it now aches
quietly
beneath the surface.
still calling
for something
that is forever
gone.

the ocean,
she knows me --
the way i carry calm
on the outside,
but also the way
i drown
on the inside.

i always say
im okay
like a shoreline lie.
but my soul
still listens
for the footsteps
that aren't returning
ever again.

and i keep on
caring --
quietly,
like the tide
always going out,
but never
coming back
the same as
before the
water.

some nights,
i cry
so quietly
that it feels
like my
soul
is the one
that is doing all
the crying
for me.

soul; an archive of feelings, a vulnerable collection of eleven entries. an true archive of feelings. mysterie's first ever project.

these entries are very special and vulnerable, mysterie hopes to connect with fellow poets and poetry lovers with these entries.

the archives:
- i waited
- the way i used to
- the ocean knows me
- waiting
- i still care
- where the soul weeps
- tsunami
- begin again
- the book you left open
- dusk
- chosen

and just like that
it's the first --
again.
a new month
arrives all too quickly
and too quietly
to prepare for.

they always say
that it's a chance
to start over,
to make new goals.
but i'm still stuck
in last months
grief.
in love that never
stayed.

everything now
feels muted --
calm
and in the wrong way.
its sort of like
the silence
after a gentle storm
you didn't see
was the end.

i used to think
love
was loud.
but the truth is,
it leaves
quickly
and quietly...
and all at once.

i like to think
you found my soul
before i had even
discovered
what it meant
to hand it over.

you whispered
forevermore
like it was a spell,
one you weren't planning
on keeping.
and i believed it.
because your eyes
said it
first.

and now you
walk past me
with that same mouth --
but it never
says my name.
yet i sit
with everything you left
unspoken,
sort of like a story
im rewriting
just to feel
chosen.

there was a time
where i truly
believed
"right person, wrong time"
was the closest
i would ever
be
to love.

like timing was a
thief
and i was made
to ache
forevermore.

but then,
i saw her.
it wasn't that kind
of love where
its loud
and cinematic,
almost movie worthy.
it was just
her smile,
and then suddenly --
my chest
hadn't felt so
heavy
anymore.

they never tell you
that love
at first sight
can feel like
healing,
like coming home
to a version
of yourself
that has been lost,
or so you thought.

she didn't just
come into my life.
she healed,
quietly
and softly --
just being there and
not asking
what broke me.

im not even mad anymore --
im just just
tired
of your antics.
you twisted things
so well
that i actually
started to believe
that i was the villain
in my own story.

you were loud,
but somehow,
im the one that
they stopped
listening to.
it's funny
how that works, huh?

i wont send this.
because you would
more than likely --
just turn it into another reason
to prove me wrong.
but honestly,
youre not worth my voice
anymore.

i think i was meant
to be a flower --
maybe a tulip.
soft,
sunlit,
open.
but i spent
way
too
long
wilting away
before i even got the chance
to bloom.

there were summers
i didn’t feel.
playgrounds i left
way too early.
and dresses i never wore
because i didn’t feel pretty --
or skinny enough
to.

i wanted to run
along the beach
with my group of friends,
laughing,
smiling.
but i was too shy.
too scared
they’d make fun
of the way i run.
so i didn’t go.

i’m only fifteen,
but some days
i feel like
my petals
already fell.
like i was just
too late.

and maybe one day,
i’ll grow again --
maybe as an orchid.
maybe softness
isn’t something you miss,
but something
you return to.

make the art you search for
the kind of art
you never find
but always feel.

the kind that
holds your hurt
without asking a million times,
"why?"
the kind that feels
like being seen.

and maybe it's not out there
because it's waiting
for you
to create it.

i left behind
a version of me
that night,
at the concert,
on that arena floor --
lighter,
louder,
happier,
and still dancing
in a city
i don't live in.

guess who has her third project planned?

me.

im once again..
excited.

can't wait to share it with you.

might make 12 parts 🤭🤭

hey,
im not quite sure
how to say this.
ive typed it a hundred times
and deleted it
every time.
i like girls.
i don't quite know what that
changes for you --
but it doesn't change who ive
always been.
im still me.
still your daughter.
i just finally wanted to tell you
the truth about myself.
even if it's scaring the **** out of me.
especially if you don't understand,
i hope one day,
you'll still see me
the same.
just more...
whole.
more real.
and more
me.

but im not sending this.
im not ready.

hey,
future me.
it's july seventh.
and this year has
definetly been one
for the books.

im lucky enough
to still have the friends
i do
because everybody
started turning their backs
on eachother.
and that made me very
anxious
to lose someone
i love.

america might be slowly
dying a painful death.
the climate too.
australia is
or was
trying to follow in
america's footsteps.
women are slowly
losing
their rights.
a possible war.

it's not the greatest time
to be alive.
but it could be worse,
and honestly,
i think that's the only way
im getting through it.
because,
i have it good.
some people don't have
what i do.
and it makes me feel
horrible
when i realise
im taking it all for granted.

i hope the air is safer
a few years from now.
i hope america has
a better life.
i hope women have
their rights.
i hope the earth
isn't suffering so bad
from the climate crisis.

but i can only hope.
and draft this text.

most days,
i carry it all
in silence --
it's like a bag
without handles.

...

grief,
expectation,
the weight of being
the one
who doesn't
fall apart
out loud.

...

no one ever
sees it,
but it's heavy
in my spine,
my jaw,
my lungs,
the way i forget
to breathe.

...

but i carry it
because i have to.
becuase letting it go --
letting it all fall
and come crashing down --
feels
worse.

i had an epiphany
while walking home --
that forever
isn't always
a promise.
it's sometimes just
a word.
one we say
to feel safe.

and that's the sad part --
i believed it.
i believed that
you meant it
when you said
that we were
forever.
i believed that you
meant it when
you looked at me
like i was
the ending
to your sentence.

now you pass me
like you never
started the story
in the first place.
yet im stil
trying to close a book
you left open.

i think about her
way more than she knows --
shes like a song
stuck in my teeth,
or a dream
that won't leave my head.
it won't wash off.

she laughs
and i hear it for days.
she touches my shoulder
and my whole body,
instantly tries to memorize
the feeling.

this isn't love,
not yet atleast --
it's limerence.
the unbearable
maybe.
the ache that is shaped
like hope
with nowhere to land.

shes all i think about
day and night --
twenty-four / seven.
she's always
on my mind.

interstate,
but im still calling.
she always answers late,
never in the mood.
and she wont wait --
not for me.
and not for anyone.

she's infecting my dreams,
shes rewriting my thoughts,
even changing my music
into sappy love songs
i swore i hated.

she's taken over
my life,
my breath,
my hours --
day and night,
twenty-four / seven.

every morning, 
i stare at the mirror --
looking into my own eyes
like they belong
to someone else.

my smile feels forced,
stolen.
like i borrowed this body,
and forgot 
to give it back.

i don't deserve it.
i neglect this body,
my shattered heart
would survive better
in someone
more loving
and patient.

we never speak
just glance
across italian class
across the corridor
across everything we don't say

she sits beside.. him
laughing loudly as he kisses her cheek
but her eyes flick
they always do
to me.
the girl sitting alone
head in a book

we trade seconds
like stolen notes
neither is brave enough
to unfold
to admit
and maybe in some other version of today
those glances would have been hands

happiness hums in the quiet light,
laughs that bloom without a why,
the warmth is caught
in passing glances-
bare tlfeet dancing through the sky
all these feelings,
tangled and small,
easily labelled as one;
happy.

my heart,
it doesn't cry --
it stays
deadly silent.
like it's learnt
how to not cry
but instead,
ache quietly.

but my soul --
my soul weeps.
not tears atleast,
but in the way
that when i hear
your name
i flinch
at the sound.

theres no breaking.
no audible noise.
just a heart,
that folded in
on itself,
and a soul --
one that doesn't know
how to stop
feeling.

trying to sleep without you --
is like the depths of hell
the big fires,
the scary people.

i can't get comfy.
my body burns,
aches even,
it itches
without your warmth.
without your touch.
i feel like --
im burning alive

this is the worst it gets,
right?
unable to sleep alone,
unable to cope alone,
needing you with me,
just to quiet my brain
enough
to finally get
some shut eye.

you were always
something oceanic --
pulling,
never touching,
loud
but somehow
without sound.

i had never learnt
how to swim,
but i waded into you
like i wouldn’t drown.
even though i couldn't swim.
i waded anyway,
like softness
could save me.

you had looked at me
like a wave
right before it breaks --
beautiful
confident
but too full
of something
it cannot hold.

i should’ve known.
even low tides leave salt.
even still,
quiet, gentle water
it pulls you under
if you stay too long.
especially if you stay too long.

but gosh,
you were just so --
blue.
and i was so incredibly
willing,
to just let you in
to let myself drown,
slowly losing myself.

you said it was a joke,
about how you wanted to kiss me
you looked me
straight in my eyes
and told me,
"i could kiss you right now"
then pulled away after a moment.
your touch lingered,
i could still feel your hands there,
on my cheeks,
holding them.
i could still feel
your body heat --
you had gotten too close
close enough for me to still feel it
because even though you left
you were still there.

you said it was a joke,
but the look in your eyes
it was desperate,
like you needed a push
to kiss me
then
and there

i think she likes me.
im just
not sure.
because that controlling
**** of a boyfriend
she has
is stopping me 
from ever really knowing.

she acts a way with him,
that makes it seem like
she's folding in
on herself.
he's homphobic,
agressive,
cold,
fifteen,
but already trying
to shrink the world
she lives in.

he checks her phone,
accesses her
social media via
her password
and getting mad
when she talks to
me.
what did i ever do?
she's allowed to
have friends.

but i think she likes me.
last night,
we flirted.
soft, small things --
but they felt
like secrets.
ones that if he knew,
he'd flip.
she'd say it was a friendly bunch
of compliments --
that meant nothing.
but her smile,
her eyes --
they told
a different story.

she laughs into her girlfriend's shoulder
but watches me like a secret
like she's holding her breath-
a sigh of relief
in the shape of something new
and i see it-
the way her smile trembles
when our eyes catch,
like she's just met a truth
she wasn't looking for,
as she turns back to her girlfriend
the girl
who isn't me.