Never Posted

I wrote then paused, ball pen hovering— the words too bare. They sat on yellow sheets, unsealed and unsent in little brown envelopes. A line meant for truth, one for letting go, another for quiet peace. I wrote “I miss you,” maybe even “I love you,” then crossed half the page. Sometimes I read through the unsaid in my heart, and almost sent a word. Your name— blue, unfading crawl the old sheets, but my voice never came. What could have healed or stayed broken— I’ll never know to say. Only that silence felt safer, quieter, and maybe better than something too true.