#emotivewriting

[thatpeasantdreamer]

She Brings Her Flowers

I imagine the little me saw the world through pastel colours.

Laughing at clouds as they swallowed the sun,

Believing the world was all play and fun.

But when did it become so dim and blue?

Now I sink to the sound of an ocean’s heavy tune.

Dragged —

Deeper into the cold hollow depths,

By tidal waves of fear that consume

I imagine the little me lived in a field of flowers,

Every flower, a different colour abloom.

Swaying in a gentle dance with the wind,

Fields and fields for miles of pastel colours.

Never a moment of dullness,

Beneath the golden light.

There exists an misshapen, dark chasm,

On the horizon —

A tsunami gathering strength to prevail —

Once it reached the top,

There was nothing to stop it.

Nothing left to save,

That child like innocence,

Lost in the tidal waves.

I write letters to the little me,

And in turn, she comes to visit me,

When she does, she brings her flowers —

A memory she carries just for me

And for a moment,

I am back in that field of pastel colours.

[the-silent-voices]

sometimes i feel like i’m waiting for a kind of love i’ve only ever imagined. not something loud or cinematic. just real. just someone choosing to stay with me — gently, fully, without needing to be convinced. i haven’t had that before and sometimes, it makes me feel behind. like i missed a train everyone else caught while i stood at the edge, wondering if i was enough — or too much. some days, i grieve what i’ve never had — as if it lived once, in a parallel life where someone looked at me and stayed. it’s not obsession. it’s not even heartbreak. it’s just this quiet ache for closeness that feels safe. i know my worth — at least logically. i know i can bring light, kindness, depth. i felt something real. but the truth is, i stayed hoping while they walked away and sometimes, that makes it hard to believe i’ll ever be someone’s choice. still — i hope. not through swipes and filters, but through presence. through connection through shared silences through someone seeing the real me and thinking, “yes. you.” maybe it just hasn’t happened yet. and i haven’t closed the door. and that takes a kind of strength most people don’t see. i’m still open. i’m still here. and someday, i hope someone will meet me there.

[the-silent-voices]

it's strange — to be close to someone and still feel a wall. to feel connection and distance at the very same time. there are so many things i wish i could tell you — from the bottom of my heart, from the depths of my soul. but i’d cross a line. and i know i’m already stretching it slowly, gently. i should stop. but i want to know how close you’ll let me come? even if i know this won’t end well. i take responsibility for my choice to get hurt. because having someone like you this close to my heart and not being able to truly know you — it’s frustrating.

thank you for being here. even if it’s just for a moment in this part of my life for the lightness you bring, for the smile you spark, for the support you offer. Thank you, my dearest

[the-silent-voices]

i’m so sorry. not because i hurt you, but because someone else did.

and words— sometimes they’re not enough. sometimes, they’re nothing at all.

why isn’t there a better way to show how deeply we feel in moments like this?

how do you say “my heart breaks with yours” and make it sound real?

how do you comfort someone when the past can’t be changed, and all you can offer is your quiet presence?

when all you want is to take the pain away— just for a moment?

i feel it. deeply.

and if that means anything at all— i hope you know: you’re not alone.

[the-silent-voices]

i know — it’s me who cares. not because i have to, but because i want to. because when i care, it feels like i’m closer to you — even if just for a second, even if it’s just an illusion. i know where i stand. i see the lines, and i stay behind them. but sometimes, just sometimes — i hope you’ll kiss me goodbye before you leave. that you’ll come up behind me and wrap your arms around me, that your beard will tickle my neck and i’ll laugh, and it will feel like we were real. i want your hug — just once more. i want to catch you looking at me when you think i’m not watching. i want what you can’t give me... i long for something that will never be mine. so i write. because here, in these quiet words, i’m free to feel. this is all i’m allowed to do.

[the-silent-voices]

i’m lost. no trace to follow. only fog — whispering, telling me to be still. in the quiet ache of my chest, i don’t know where this path leads. i close my eyes hoping to see more. a voice calls to me from somewhere far — soft, familiar. there is a star trembling on the horizon. but i don’t know if i’ll ever reach it. still, i keep going. even when i don’t know where. still, i keep going. and let the world be silent around me.