In the quiet of the night, I write to you,
With a heart heavy with words unsaid.
Each letter a fragment of my soul,
Hoping to reach where you might never tread.

The ink flows like tears on paper,
Lines weaving stories of what could have been.
Every sentence a whispered secret,
Of dreams and memories unseen.

In the silence, I find my voice,
As my pen dances across the page.
Pouring out emotions long confined,
In this solitary, endless cage.

Though these words may never find you,
They keep my heart from breaking apart.
For in writing, I find solace,
And the courage to mend my heart.