Words left behind.

I write because silence doesn’t speak,

I spill what’s hidden, the parts I can’t keep.

No mirror here, no need to pretend,

Just raw thoughts that don’t always mend.

*

These words, a fragments of what I’ve always felt,

A map of a heart that’s still been dealt.

Not much of “answers,” just pieces that I find,

I leave them here, for you, for me and for time.

I leave them in ink and rhyme.