Saying the unsaid..

I know why I was silent,
silent all these days;
for whenever I did try,
it went to unwanted ways.

What happened was wrong,
but I forgot good times,
when we had but sweetness,
just remembered sour limes.

I did have my own reasons,
each were right, I knew;
but what did turn to faux,
was a friendship so true.

I don’t want past to live,
nor to live in that past;
maybe if we can try again,
that friendship would last.

That is why I have talked,
for true friends are rare;
who understand our dreams,
when no one else can care.

Dear, I can’t hurt myself,
for that smile once again;
if the past does crop up,
I’ll run far from the pain,
I’ll run far from the pain.


Linked with OctPoWriMo (Day 11, What I Must Write)


(’12, Oct 11)

Poetry & writing are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

  

8 thoughts on “Saying the unsaid..

  1. It’s so hard to make a decision to allow someone back in your life who haas caused pain, yet we still care. Easier to run,,,,, I especially understood the line “I don’t want past to live,
    nor to live in that past;” Enjoyed this poem very much.

  2. So sad, bittersweet…. and a place I know well. Today I was working on a poem in my head about a one-time-love turning me into pesto along with some basil with his mortar and pestil. (Not sure the spelling for that one!) Its been six years & the most challenging love to set aside. Keep writing it out. It does help.

    • It is bittersweet, but then again, some relationships are such. πŸ™‚ That’s pestle, not pestil, but I get where you’re coming from.

      Yes, writing it out definitely seems to help, Julie πŸ™‚ Thank you.

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