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Shoaib Shawon Sep 16
My Dear,

I’m tongue-tied — I may not be able to say much. It’s been a long time since I looked into your eyes. In the rush of the day we never find a single quiet moment for ourselves.

If I speak, you’ll tell me you have no time for these childish whims. Fine — I’ll stop saying it. But if you ever feel like it, put out the dim light in your room and stare, blank-eyed, at the ceiling for a while. Maybe then you’ll feel what I feel; maybe you’ll see what’s inside me, and notice how wide the distance has grown.

What do you think? That I’m only being cryptic? You see nothing but darkness. There is no place left for jokes — my days and nights are full of nonsense.

Go ahead, add a couple more complaints to the list. Lately I’m beyond ordinary sorrow; call me an enlightened sage if that comforts you. I won’t tell another lie — I’ll try to speak only what’s true from my heart. No — I will tell you nothing but the truth. These sleepless nights have become unbearably irksome.

I’m tongue-tied; I won’t explain the reasons to anyone. You needn’t worry. Keep living your life as you do. I’ve learned a new craft: weaving stories — many lies, a little truth, and mostly imagination.

Enough of that. I’ve rambled so much I forgot the real thing I wanted to say: I miss your smile. I miss it a great deal. Without it, your face looks hollow and empty.

Always,
Someone
lisagrace Jul 19
My friend, I love you

I'm not in love with you, just to be clear. 
It's not so much
in the way that you walk,
or the way that you talk.
Or even the way your long hair
is always just so.
Or your smile.
Or your warmth.

I remember the way that I used to be. 
Quiet. 
Unsure. 
Afraid. 
Naive. 

But you pulled me away,
made me see that I could be more -
would be more, beside you.

I remember your birthday
at your family's restaurant.
I knew I'd already
ruined the night for myself,
but you found me
where I stood alone in the street...
and the silence softened.
You asked me if I wanted to dance.
I said no, it was already too late,
the damage was done...
but I wanted to say yes.

****, I wanted to say yes.

You're the one who listens to me,
who doesn't assume
I'll always say no thankyou.
I'd had "friends" like that before,
They made me believe
that I wasn't enough, just as I am.
But you...you believe that I am.

Now? I’d say yes.
No hesitation.
With you, the nerves quiet down.
I don’t feel like I have to hide.
It just feels safe.
Like I can dance without thinking,
and not be afraid of being seen.

But I've worried, even now.
Am I doing enough?
Do I check in, when it matters?
Am I still enough as I am?
You are a ******* gem, and all I want
is for you to sparkle.

I see how you are with others.
Lighter 
Laughing 
The way it skims the air,
untouched by my knowing.
I look at you and I wonder,
could I be like that?
Do I even want to?
I know my energy is quiet and subtle,
yet you meet me there and reflect it...
but is what we have enough for us?

This could all just be in my head.
I know I'm a worrier.
But I think you know
how much you mean to me. 

I'll never say it. 
I can't. 
Not out loud, anyway. 
But I can manage a birthday card
and a felt frame of a tabby cat
who looks like Julia.
The words flow easier that way.
And so I write it here too.

I really, platonically love you.
My squish. 
My gem. 
I love you.
A platonic love letter to the friend who helped me grow into myself.
This is for the ones who stay soft, who see you clearly,
and love you as you already are.
Your hand
moved like silence
on my shoulder—
not asking,
not waiting.

The sheet
slid down
just enough
to forget its name.

Your breath
settled between
my ribs
and the window.

We didn’t speak.
The night
had already
been told.

The fan spun
above bare skin
and promises
no one made.

You traced a path
below my navel—
a sentence
you never said aloud
but I remembered
for days.

Later,
you left
without shoes.
Your steps
soft
as permission.

I lay there,
the sky warming,
your warmth
still turning
in the folds.

- THE END -

© 2025 June, Hasanur Rahman Shaikh.
All rights reserved.
A quiet moment of closeness, where touch spoke what words couldn’t.
Sometimes, the most lasting goodbyes are the ones said without sound.
Girl On The Wing Jan 2015
I want the kind of love
That's quiet

Quiet like tea and a blanket in the morning

I want a love that's soft
That's honest and deep and true
That's always there

Love that's not for show
Or for power
But love simply because love is felt

I want a love that accepts and encourages
I want a love that embodies peace
Love is groovy

— The End —