What Stayed Unspoken

Her coat lay folded,

on a bench too cold for memory.

Sleeves limp, empty—

like the words I never found.

Everyone spoke, cried,

but I held silence tight,

pressing a secret

like a wound behind my teeth.

I wanted to say:

You were harder than I thought,

not the soft story they told,

a messy tangle of light and dark,

never just a hymn.

But the moment passed,

and the coat stayed silent,

as I walked away,

empty-handed and full of what stayed unspoken.