The Words Unsaid

By Sanika Bhatia

The words unsaid pile like autumn leaves,

Crushed beneath the weight of time.

I don’t remember why I held them back—

A whisper lost to a moment’s crime.

I never meant to speak the sharp ones,

Those barbs I didn’t truly mean.

Yet they hung in the air, heavy and loud,

While gentler truths stayed unseen.

I wanted to tell you—yes, all of you—

About the nights I felt small in a crowded trio,

The ache of being the one left outside,

While laughter echoed and I pretended to go.

I wanted to confess my passions,

The wild dreams I’ve hidden deep.

But fear crept in—of laughter, of doubt,

So I buried them while the world was asleep.

And to my mother, I said I wouldn’t return,

Though my heart longed for her call.

Each silence a mask, each word a betrayal

Of the love I feared to let fall.

I never know the right words in the moment—

They catch in my throat, a prisoner of doubt.

And when I finally find their shape,

The moment has already slipped out.

The words unsaid—they linger, they ache,

A symphony of could-have-beens,

A quiet reminder of all I’ve yet to say,

And all that will remain—the words unsaid.

By Sanika Bhatia