MUSEUM OF UNSAID THINGS

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Inside silent museum halls 
behind glass they rest.
Fogged by our own breath, they reside--
the things we never said.  

The curator preserves the almost-was,  
each artifact dusted with the breath  
of words we swallowed whole.  

Exhibit A: The unsigned love letter,  
its ink dissolved to ghostly stains~  
the envelope still warm, the words still fresh.  

Exhibit B: A child’s unfinished question,  
lodged like a fossil in his throat.  
Beside it, the father’s reply~  
a shadow stretched too late across the floor.  

Exhibit C A woman’s rage, polished  
to a fine, decorative sheen.  
The plaque reads Patience,  
though the cracks suggest otherwise.  

Exhibit D: The Mirror  
Visitors pause, then quickly walk past.  
It reflects nothing but the weight  
of all the words swallowed whole.  

Last, the centerpiece—a hollow bell,  
cast from every I’m fine that ever rang  
true enough to draw blood.  

We pay our fees, we nod, we leave,  
carrying relics we’ll never display.  
The museum grows, and no one retrieves  
what they came there to say.

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