The Unsent Chronicle

In the grand, empty concert hall of my phone's cold, glowing screen, 

My fingers hover, trembling, over words that remain unseen. 

Each tap, a silent prayer, each backspace, a retreat, 

A symphony of longing, tragically incomplete. 

The cursor blinks, a heartbeat, in the digital night, 

Witness to a love unravelling, in fading, pixelated light.

Hey. Are you okay? It's been a while. My silence feels like static, a hum in the empty air. 

(My breath, a held note, waiting for a chord to play, 

But the message hangs, suspended, in the digital grey.) 

I miss your laugh. The way your eyes would crinkle at the sides. 

(A memory, a phantom touch, where unspoken tenderness hides.) 

Is everything alright? Just checking in. 

My worry, a tight knot, a coil in my chest. 

(The words, like fragile birds, too afraid to leave the nest.)

I saw your story. You looked happy. 

My heart, a sudden drum, a frantic, anxious beat. 

(The image, a sharp shard, making my spirit incomplete.) 

Who were you with? No, never mind. 

My curiosity, a hungry, gnawing thing. 

(A question swallowed whole, the bitter taste it brings.) 

It's just… I thought we had something. 

My hope, a wilting flower, its petals starting to fall. 

(The truth, a silent echo, bouncing off a digital wall.)

Remember that night? Under the bridge? 

My mind, a projector, playing scenes on repeat. 

(The past, a heavy anchor, dragging my weary feet.) 

The stars were so bright. We talked for hours. 

My soul, a hollow chamber, where echoes softly roam. 

(A phantom conversation, far away from home.) 

I still think about it. Every day. 

My yearning, a persistent hum, a tune I can't escape. 

(A silent, desperate plea, taking on a broken shape.)

Did I do something wrong? 

My self-doubt, a cold hand, clutching at my throat. 

(The fear, a rising tide, capsizing my fragile boat.) 

Please just tell me. My voice, a whispered plea, lost in the vast, empty space. 

(A desperate, unheard cry, leaving no discernible trace.) 

I can fix it. I promise. 

My resolve, a crumbling wall, against a relentless, silent siege. 

(The words, like broken promises, offering no true reprieve.)

I can't sleep. My thoughts, a tangled mess, a web I can't untwine. 

(The darkness, a heavy blanket, making every moment mine.) 

Are you even reading these? 

My hope, a flickering candle, against a gathering, icy gale. 

(The silence, a vast ocean, where all my efforts fail.) 

Just one word. 

My spirit, a parched desert, longing for a single drop of rain. 

(The screen, a cruel mirror, reflecting back my pain.)

I love you. 

(Typed with desperate, trembling, hopeful might. 

The final, raw confession, burning fiercely in the night. 

My thumb hovers, hesitates, a breath held in suspense, 

Then presses, with a tremor, releasing all pretense.)

The blue ticks appear, then vanish, 

a fleeting, cruel design. 

The message, now delivered, no longer solely mine. 

A moment stretches, endless, a universe of dread, 

As my eyes fix on the timestamp, 

and the words that now are read.

Seen • 2:04 AM

In the grand, empty concert hall, where silence now descends, 

The final note has sounded, and my fractured symphony ends. 

The power of a notification, a truth so stark and cold, 

A digital disconnection, a story left untold.

- Khushi Kaul