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#unsaidwords
Unlike others, I loved Mondays, and hated weekends, because of you. Our eyes will meet for the last time, and then, only then, will I say goodbye. My chest tightens at the feeling, my lashes as heavy as mountains, I'll never get to tell you anything, I'll never get to know anything. You'll never know the warmth that your soul gave to me, the comfort from sincerity, and the platonic, almost romantic love. I never formed those three heavy words, one's so simple, and yet so meaningful. I never got to speak, how you make colours so much brighter, and the weight of the world so much lighter. Our looks spoke paragraphs, our laughter cured sorrow, our dynamic merged beautifully. I still refused to tell you however, because I won't ever say it, not now, not ever. In the future, I'll see you, not in a suit, but casual, buying milk from a store, and asking about my day. It won't be anything the same, and my soul will feel unclaimed. We'll laugh, cry and drift together, but nothing is said. Not now, not ever.
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Mar 28
Mar 28, 2026 at 4:27 PM UTC
Not Now, Not Ever.
There was a doorway I kept walking past, pretending it was still open. Your absence stood there as the outline of something that used to breathe, a moment that refuses to sit down. Even now, something in the doorway listens, waiting for the words I never spoke. I wasn’t ready for you to disappear. A sound that remembers me better than I remember it follows me through every room. I keep returning to the moment you vanished, as if repetition could soften the blow, as if memory might open a door already sealed behind you, quiet as a held breath. What lingers isn’t you anymore, but the version of me still standing in that doorway, listening for a voice that dissolved before it reached the threshold. I’ve learned to live with the echo, to let it move through me like weather I can’t predict, a reminder that some doors close before we know we were still standing in them.
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Jan 11
Jan 11, 2026 at 12:18 PM UTC
Before The Door Closed
It beats pretending— whispering _I don’t like you,_ even as a lie; The lie quietly bruises my mouth. I swallow those very words, my Throat tight whenever you’re near, Chocked up by your presence Words cut like scythed phrases, Brushing past my lips, swept By the tongue, chasing dust. We all get a little messy — Running after the one we love.
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Dec 16, 2025
Dec 16, 2025 at 2:15 AM UTC
Soft Wounds
There is so much I wanted to tell you— but I didn’t. Not because I didn’t feel it, but because I felt it too much. I’ve carried conversations with you in the quietest corners of my mind, where you always listened, and I always spoke. I wanted to say how your smile messed with my heartbeat. How your presence made the world a little softer, a little warmer. But I stayed quiet. Because silence felt safer than the risk of breaking what little we had. Because I didn’t want to lose the only version of you I could hold. I watched you laugh with others, while my heart whispered poems it never dared deliver. I wanted to ask if you ever felt it too — that invisible string pulling gently when our eyes met in passing. But I never asked. Because I’m the silent kind of lover — the kind who writes your name in thoughts, not texts. The kind who chooses distance over damage, daydreams over disappointment. And even now, I speak to you through stars, through wind, through words you'll never read. Because some love stories don’t need to be spoken to be true.
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Aug 1, 2025
Aug 1, 2025 at 11:50 PM UTC
The Things I Never Said
बोलताना तुझ्याशी भान मी हरपलो, तुला बघायला दररोज मी तरसलो. भेटशील तू मला, ही आशा मनात होती, पण भेटायला तुला योग्य संधी मिळत नव्हती. मी मारलेल्या जोकवर तुझं खदखदून हसणं, तू दिलेल्या सरप्राइजनं माझं आश्चर्यचकित होणं, मी दुःखी असताना तुझे डोळे पाणावणं, तू अडचणीत असताना माझं मदतीस सरसावणं. आठवण येत होती मला कायम ह्या सगळ्याची, पण तुझी सावलीदेखील माझ्या आसपास नसायची. कायम मी जगायचो तुझ्या आठवणींमध्ये, कायम मी बघत राहायचो तुझ्या फोटोकडे. परत सोडून गेलीस तर जगणं अशक्य होईल मला, माझ्या मनातली ही भावना मी कशी सांगू तुला? कदाचित देवानेच आहे आपलं कनेक्शन जोडलेलं, कारण नातं आहे आपलं शब्दांच्या पलीकडचं.
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Jul 11, 2025
Jul 11, 2025 at 2:32 AM UTC
बोलताना तुझ्याशी
बोलताना तुझ्याशी भान मी हरपलो, तुला बघायला दररोज मी तरसलो. भेटशील तू मला, ही आशा मनात होती, पण भेटायला तुला योग्य संधी मिळत नव्हती. मी मारलेल्या जोकवर तुझं खदखदून हसणं, तू दिलेल्या सरप्राइजनं माझं आश्चर्यचकित होणं, मी दुःखी असताना तुझे डोळे पाणावणं, तू अडचणीत असताना माझं मदतीस सरसावणं. आठवण येत होती मला कायम ह्या सगळ्याची, पण तुझी सावलीदेखील माझ्या आसपास नसायची. कायम मी जगायचो तुझ्या आठवणींमध्ये, कायम मी बघत राहायचो तुझ्या फोटोकडे. परत सोडून गेलीस तर जगणं अशक्य होईल मला, माझ्या मनातली ही भावना मी कशी सांगू तुला? कदाचित देवानेच आहे आपलं कनेक्शन जोडलेलं, कारण नातं आहे आपलं शब्दांच्या पलीकडचं.
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16
Four walls …two bodies Trapped words ...white noise. A house on fire... You... me … standing burning Pretending the fire isn't roaring.
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Aug 26, 2019
Aug 26, 2019 at 7:34 PM UTC
Unspoken
Sometimes I wanna Say I am in a trouble... Please STAY, But like the same... You say BYE and My words go UNSAID!!!
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Jul 10, 2019
Jul 10, 2019 at 3:09 AM UTC
BYE...
A thousand different scenarios I build in my head, laying awake at night, watching the forlorn sky and try to conjure up the reaction you give me as it finally dawns you. But the scenarios dissolve as reality crashes and it settles in my stomach like a ton of bricks that you will always remain oblivious to what you mean to me.
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Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 6:45 AM UTC
A thousand different scenarios
Silence is not always absence of noise. Sometimes it's just presence of noise shut inside. ~JasB
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Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 6:18 AM UTC
Silence
I'm sorry that i never know what to say when we talk. it's funny, actually, because there are many things i'd like to tell you. i just don't know how.
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Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 9:13 AM UTC
to you.
He left her with a tight hug, but her soul stung. He left her with unsaid words, but her heart shattered. He left her in the most tranquil way, but it made her broken. She couldn't find the answer, but she knows, silence is a killer. -Steph Dionisio, August 24, 2015
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Aug 24, 2015
Aug 24, 2015 at 9:43 AM UTC
® Silence is a Killer
It isn't fair, you know. That you get to sleep peacefully while I toss and turn in bed- clawing at my arms and trying to will my thoughts away.
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Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 2:09 AM UTC
Text Messages Never Sent #1
i wish i told her how much i loved her poetry; her poetry was music to my ears and calligraphy to my eyes, no matter how messy her handwriting. each was a masterpiece, each was a song, each told a story, regardless of how illegible; and i can't stand knowing that i'll never get to fall in love with her art ever again.
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Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 3:12 PM UTC
untold