“You still exist,

In my unspoken words

As I try to shut them up.

But they insist to echo

loud and clear, in my drained conscience

And kill me with regret.”

She closed her daily diary with another sad note.


“I hear you,

In the silent darkness of the night,

In my magical moments of happiness,

In solitude and hustle.

For I read,

all your quiet messages

and those talking eyes

But never voiced back in return,

In the never ending waiting

To be shaken and approached.”

He smiled sadly staring at another sunset of separation.


Missed chances have never been this painful, both sighed while ordering coffee for one, far away in their lonely lives unknown to each other.

2 thoughts on “Crisp.

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