UnspokenPoems

Aspiring poet, endless verses, one dream

[unspokenp0ems]

Endless Hall

This hall that never ends—

lined with doors that only lead to dead ends.

My trust fractures with each step I take;

the farther I run,

the deeper I break.

I slip into rooms,

quietly stashing away feelings

in corners and closets,

waiting for silence

to feel like safety.

Then—

I run again.

Down the endless hall,

chasing an end

that’s always

just

out of sight.

[unspokenp0ems]

A mind not my own

My mind is not my own.

No, it belongs to six million other voices—

voices that aren't mine.

A never ending tug-of-war

Was I right? Was I wrong?

No... yes... maybe... think again.

I overanalyze every thought,

Until there are no more fingernails left to bite.

A courtroom rises before me,

Their eyes burn into my skin,

Their whispers echo in my skull.

A million silent judges stare,

Weighing my actions, my thoughts—

No, their thoughts, my actions.

Think. Re-think. Overthink.

No rest, just noise, just endless will.

For my mind is not my own,

It is theirs.

[unspokenp0ems]

I yearn for words never meant for me, so I write my own to fill my heart.

[unspokenp0ems]

Spring Cleaning

Winter fades, its chill undone,

As flowers bloom beneath the sun.

Golden light warms the waking ground,

A season of renewal all around.

Spring cleaning calls—not just for dust,

But for the thoughts that turn to rust.

Clear the attic of your mind,

Leave old regrets and doubts behind.

For sale: the memories that no longer hold you,

Let go of words that once controlled you.

Sweep away the past’s remains,

Make space for joy, release the chains.

Look within—cleanse the soul,

Let your heart feel light and whole.

[unspokenp0ems]

Expectations

Glass skin, nails so long, High heels clicking, standing strong. A tight skirt hugs, a perfect frame— Without it, she feels the blame.

Hair flows down, sleek and neat, Long and lovely—can’t be beat. These are the rules, unspoken yet clear, Standards shaped year after year.

But what of men? What do they face? What expectations must they embrace? To be charming, to be strong, To lead the way, to play along.

So simple, so clear, yet never quite light, Pressure to be just what feels right. Why do we shape these roles so tight, Drawing lines in black and white?

[unspokenp0ems]

Love letters to the Void

I love myself. I know my worth. But somehow, love keeps slipping through my fingers like sand that was never mine to hold.

They come in with sweet words, soft glances, promises wrapped in pretty bows— and then leave just as easily, like I was just a page in their story, never the whole book.

I am tired of almosts. Tired of being something to admire, but never something to keep. Tired of pouring warmth into people who never learned how to hold it.

Maybe love is waiting for me somewhere, laughing at how impatient I am. Maybe one day, someone will stay. Not because I begged them to, but because they couldn’t imagine leaving.

[metamorphesque]

tanka #6, Tathev Simonyan

[unspokenp0ems]

Your paper words brush my soul, only to burn just as quick.

[unspokenp0ems]

Bottle Shaped Heart

Born with a bottle-shaped heart. Emotions overflow— no cap to hold them.

They spill freely, too strong for bystanders. “Too dramatic,” they say. “Too intense,” they insist.

A cap forms. The bottle starts to close. Held inside, too much for bystanders.

The heart grows heavier. “You’re so quiet,” they say. “You’re so mature,” they insist. A smile—plastered on, while the bottle-shaped heart fills with every unspoken thought.

It starts to crack. Emotions press against glass, too strong for public ears. Locked away. Never to be heard.

And when it finally breaks, a river falls from overflowing eyes. Emotions spill— too strong for bystanders, heard only by the night.

By morning, it’s taped back up. Cap on. Locked away. Ready for the day. No bystander wants to hear. No one ever thinks to ask about my bottle-shaped heart.