Unsaid

Things go unsaid

in little layers of awkwardness

between the places

where bridges could be stretched

across the chasm of our doubts

Things go unsaid

while we explain —

explain away the need,

in that moment

to be heard and seen

and then it’s gone

And we are left with

all the stories we will forge

of how it didn’t matter anyway

or how it’s better

that we didn’t speak

And so we drift away,

connection lost

in the superficial chatter

that we use to paper over

things that go unsaid.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 13, 2014