Behind Chapter Two: Whispers in the Dark

Some pain doesn’t announce itself. It hides behind steady routines and practiced smiles, slipping quietly into your day while your mind becomes louder than the world around you. You get through the day, you answer messages, you laugh when you’re supposed to, but inside, there’s a constant noise, a weight, a feeling you can’t name. Whispers in the Dark was written from that space, the in-between where everything looks fine, but nothing feels right. These poems don’t come from chaos; they come from the stillness that feels anything but peaceful. This chapter holds the thoughts you keep to yourself, the questions that echo at night, the quiet unraveling no one else sees. It isn’t here to fix you. It’s here to remind you that you’re not the only one who feels this way.

What This Chapter Holds

These poems came to me slowly. Some in fragments. Some are fully formed at 2 am. I wasn’t trying to write something profound; I was trying to tell the truth about the heaviness, and I didn’t know how to explain the emotions that lived just beneath the surface.

This chapter isn’t about solutions. It’s about making space.
For the feelings that are harder to name.
For the ones that don’t show up in conversation, but still shape how we move through the world.

The Poem: When Darkness Speaks

This piece came from a night when I let the silence speak for me.
It’s about how, sometimes, in the absence of answers, we find strange comfort in simply being honest about what hurts.

When Darkness Speaks

At first, it whispered soft and cold,
A quiet weight I couldn't hold.
Grief sat beside me, day by day,
While love turned sharp and pulled away.

The anger burned, but no one knew,
My silence grew, my shadows too.
But darkness stayed when others fled,
It heard the words I left unsaid.

It held my hand, it let me weep
A friend who watched me fall asleep.
In broken moments, I found release,
When darkness spoke, it gave me peace.

Now we sit together, side by side,
It doesn't judge, it doesn't hide.
In its embrace, I learned to mend,
My shadow now my oldest friend.

For the Ones Who Carry Quiet Pain

This chapter is for you if you’ve ever felt something you couldn’t name, if you’ve ever smiled while feeling numb inside, or been told you’re “too sensitive” and started to believe your sadness was too small to matter. You don’t need a reason to feel how you feel. You don’t have to explain your quiet pain for it to be valid. You’re allowed to feel it. You’re allowed to sit with it. And you’re allowed to not be okay.

What I Hope This Chapter Offers

This chapter isn’t here to offer answers or fixes, just a quiet reminder that you’re not the only one. These poems were written in silence, but they were never meant to stay there. If they echo something in you, even something you haven’t said out loud yet, let them. Let them remind you that you’re not alone in the quiet. And if what you’re carrying ever feels too heavy, please reach out to a friend, a therapist, a support line, anyone who can sit with you in that space. You don’t have to go through it alone. Your pain is real, and so is your right to be supported through it.

If these words spoke to something in you, you can find more in my book, Feelings Unbound, a collection of poems written for the quiet moments we rarely share.