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Jo Unsaid Poem
she taught me
without meaning to
that love
should be quieter
less overwhelming
less visible
less… much
she watched me feel
like it was something
to fix
like my heart
needed discipline
so I learned
to lower the volume
of everything
to love
in ways
that would not
make anyone uncomfortable
to become
digestible
instead of real
Copyright © Jo Unsaid | Year Posted 2026
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Details |
Jo Unsaid Poem
i read my own poems
like they were written
by someone
who knows me
too well
and suddenly
i am not the writer
i am the girl
inside the lines
again
feeling everything
i tried
to release
i thought
writing them down
would set me free
but instead
they sit in front of me
like mirrors
and i cannot
look away
i think about
my mother reading them
how she will pause
between lines
how she might not recognize
the version of herself
i carry
and that thought
alone
breaks something in me
i think about
my father
how he will read quietly
the way he loves
how he will not say much
but feel everything
and i don’t know
if that comforts me
or hurts more
because my poems
do not just tell stories
they remember
they reopen
what i carefully
closed
they take my hand
and lead me back
to every moment
that made me
soft
and heavy
and honest
i wrote them
to survive
but now
i read them
and feel
everything
again
Copyright © Jo Unsaid | Year Posted 2026
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Details |
Jo Unsaid Poem
they loved me
I know they did
but love
looked different
in their hands
it was protection
not expression
it was presence
not softness
it was doing
not saying
and I grew up
learning how to translate
actions
into something
that felt like love
even when
it didn’t always reach me
Copyright © Jo Unsaid | Year Posted 2026
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Details |
Jo Unsaid Poem
my mother says I feel too much
like it is a flaw
like love
should be measured
With teaspoons
not oceans
She cannot understand
how I carry entire skies
Inside my ribs
And call it
Living
Copyright © Jo Unsaid | Year Posted 2026
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Details |
Jo Unsaid Poem
they say
I am too much
Too emotional
Too romantic
Too hopeful
Too full of love
But the truth is
They were only
Ever prepared
For women who make themselves smaller
Copyright © Jo Unsaid | Year Posted 2026
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Details |
Jo Unsaid Poem
my father gave me
everything he had
and nothing
he didn’t
there were parts of him
the war kept
and I stopped
looking for them
I stopped asking
for softness
from hands
that only knew
how to hold on
he loved me
just not in the ways
I learned
to need
Copyright © Jo Unsaid | Year Posted 2026
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