Writers Jam

i have been learning the art of confession without sound how to let a feeling spill through the cracks without naming it without staining it with the simplicity of three words there are languages older than speech and i think i’ve begun speaking in them each time you enter the room you would never notice how silence behaves differently around you it doesn’t stay still; it trembles as if the air remembers something my mouth is too human to utter when you laugh the noise rearranges the furniture of my mind suddenly, everything has a place and everything hurts a little less i find you in strange corners of my existence in the static hum between radio stations in the way my reflection softens when i think i see you in the trembling pause before a sentence that wants to confess but settles for irony instead the philosophers would call it attachment, the poets would call it ruin, i call it the quiet collapse of logic whenever your name brushes against my consciousness at night, i test myself i whisper everything but that phrase i say: you are the pause between thunder and rain and you are the answer my loneliness keeps repeating i say: stay but it sounds like breathe i say: you make time exist and it almost means i love you you see, to name it would be to kill it words are cruel like that once spoken, they begin to rot in meaning so i keep mine buried under gestures: in the way i remember your coffee order or how i stay awake through the night just to make sure you fall asleep first love, i’ve learned, survives best in disguise a glance mistaken for coincidence, a text unsent, a poem pretending to be about something else and yet, if you were to look closely you’d see the truth leaking through the seams how every metaphor i build secretly carries your silhouette how even despair feels softer when it wears your name beneath its breath so no, i won’t say it not because i don’t mean it but because the words would be too small, too mortal to hold the quiet infinity of what i feel i’d rather let the unsaid speak let my silence tremble against your heartbeat, let the universe translate me in the only way it knows: by circling you endlessly like a planet trying to understand its own orbit