Email Poem

Your IP Address: 216.73.216.65

Your Email Address:

To Email Address:

Subject

Personal Note:

Poem Title:

Poem

There is a room no one remembers.
It exists between seconds,
beneath the sigh of clocks,
where grief collects like dust
no one dares to clean.

A boy once lived there.
Not in body
but in everything
the world chose not to see.

He was the note
never played in the song,
the letter erased
before the ink could dry.
He breathed like wallpaper
quiet, patterned, unseen.
No one ever knocked.
No one ever asked
why his eyes looked like
they had tasted the end
before they had seen the beginning.

His laughter?
Left in a jar somewhere,
screwed shut so tightly
even joy forgot the sound of it.
He wore loneliness like a coat
he could never outgrow,
stitched from glances
that never met his gaze.

Every day, he walked into the world
like a ghost that paid rent.
Spoke in decimals.
Laughed in subtitles.
His voice didn’t echo;
it dissolved.

And when he fell in love
not loudly,
not with roses or grand poems
but in that terrified, trembling way
the unseen do,
he gave everything
to someone who needed nothing.

She smiled like gravity.
Beautiful. Indifferent.
And when she left,
she didn’t break his heart
she erased the last map
he had left of himself.

He didn’t die in a fire.
No cliffs. No pills.
No flashing red lights.
He simply stopped returning.
One breath at a time.
One unanswered message after another.
He faded like the glow
after a candle’s blown out
and no one remembers the flame.

Now, sometimes,
when it rains but the sun is shining,
or when silence lingers
a second too long
you might feel it:
that ache you can’t name.

That’s him.

That’s the room
where the stars don’t speak.
And you just walked through it.

CAPTCHA Preview

Type the characters you see in the picture

Required