the words left in the the unsaid.

the letters we never write

why are there always more words left in the unsaid

crimes better committed than admitted 

always easier to flee than face what you could be 

easier to abhor yourself than implore the possibility 

of the fragility of your own humanity.

the silence of the abyss beckoning for us to fall in

guess it is always easier to ignore the words unspoken

than hear what they finally have to say

or that you could finally become 

the words left in the unsaid.