When The Quiet Speaks Poem by Laya Bajpai

In the hush between your heartbeats
I hear whispers — shadows of what was,
and dreams waiting to be born.

I carry the burden of silent nights,
folded regrets tucked into my ribs,
yet, I name them, one by one,
so, they no longer haunt me in darkness.

The moon leans low, watching me
scrape hope from hollowed regrets,
and I press them to my lips —
burning, fragrant with longing.

Life is the space between words unsaid,
the tremor before tears spill,
and in that trembling, I learn:
to be soft is not to break,
to pause is not to lose.

Here I stand, gathering fragments,
woven from sorrow and light —
not whole, but woven,
not perfect, but breathing.