#unspokentruth - Hello Poetry

⭐ THE UNPOLISHED SEASON — Poem III We were sitting on the couch, and the truth was right there – leaning against the armrest, waiting for someone to finally look at it. I could have said it. I could have told you that the silence between us has started to grow hair, turning into a pet we never meant to keep. You could have said it, too. You looked at me three seconds longer than a polished person would, your mouth a half‑built bridge you didn’t dare cross. But then the light shifted, the neighbors started their car, and the effort of being honest felt like trying to lift the roof with our bare hands. So we didn’t. We talked about the grocery list. We performed the “Who’s Making Dinner?” routine like people who know their lines. And the truth – tired of waiting – just sighed, lay down on the floor, and stayed home.

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May 16

May 16, 2026 at 11:13 AM UTC

VerseBuster

The Sentence That Stayed Home

⭐ THE UNPOLISHED SEASON — Poem III We were sitting on the couch, and the truth was right there – leaning against the armrest, waiting for someone to finally look at it. I could have said it. I could have told you that the silence between us has started to grow hair, turning into a pet we never meant to keep. You could have said it, too. You looked at me three seconds longer than a polished person would, your mouth a half‑built bridge you didn’t dare cross. But then the light shifted, the neighbors started their car, and the effort of being honest felt like trying to lift the roof with our bare hands. So we didn’t. We talked about the grocery list. We performed the “Who’s Making Dinner?” routine like people who know their lines. And the truth – tired of waiting – just sighed, lay down on the floor, and stayed home.

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the well stays sealed. Pain turns to fire, fire hardens to rage. I wear anger as skin, because sorrow is forbidden.

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Aug 22, 2025

Aug 22, 2025 at 2:54 AM UTC

sandeepboharachhetri

Mens don’t cry

the well stays sealed. Pain turns to fire, fire hardens to rage. I wear anger as skin, because sorrow is forbidden.

5

“What We Carry in Silence” *** There are things we talk about — the weather, our kit, the food, the daft things that happened out on exercise. And then there are the things we don’t. The fear. The doubt. The moments that shook us. The faces we still see when the room goes quiet. We don’t say them out loud because we don’t need to. The lads already know. A nod, a look, a hand on the shoulder — that’s enough. Words are for civvies. We deal in silence, shared understanding, and the unspoken truth that we’d go through it all again for each other. The only words that matter are— For each other.

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Apr 30

Apr 30, 2026 at 3:52 AM UTC

ThePoppiesStillBloom

The Things We Never Say Out Loud

“What We Carry in Silence” *** There are things we talk about — the weather, our kit, the food, the daft things that happened out on exercise. And then there are the things we don’t. The fear. The doubt. The moments that shook us. The faces we still see when the room goes quiet. We don’t say them out loud because we don’t need to. The lads already know. A nod, a look, a hand on the shoulder — that’s enough. Words are for civvies. We deal in silence, shared understanding, and the unspoken truth that we’d go through it all again for each other. The only words that matter are— For each other.

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