A few things left unsaid

A few things left unsaid,

they’re these feelings frozen in time

that have left you questioning your paradigm,

for there’s no moving forward,

and oh my dear,

death can be easier

than moving backwards,

so you just put them in a jar

and only look at them from afar,

but you then keep it in your heart

so that you may never have to part.

Maybe you’ll keep it there forever,

like a book never read,

a few things left unsaid,

but sometimes the jar bursts

to quench its thirst,

the pieces pierce your heart,

but the feelings,

they’ll flow with your blood as one — totally blended,

and the cap will sit there unattended,

you’ll somehow convince yourself:

why would one care for something so selfish?

for Such evil is not worth being cherished,

and it is only hate that’s flowing,

no love in hidden form showing,

you’ll burn them all slowly like a cigarette,

few things that were left unsaid.

Years will pass,

sand will slip from the hour glass,

and then on a random Wednesday,

maybe sitting on a serene bay,

the question will surely intrigue you:

where did the cap go?

And it will forcefully make the love flow,

then ,once again, you’ll think in deep regret

that there were a few things left unsaid.