In Stories Unwritten

Laiba Haque

How peculiar, that you meet someone,

Draw breath alongside them,

And still, manage to lose them

Within ticks of a restless heart.

Something as simple as forgetting the bass of their voice,

Is a difficult thought to accept.

Anecdotes of who they were roll off your tongue like a mantra–

As if you owe yourself,

A bleary image of him personified.

Yet, you don’t know whether their hair has grown a little too long since you last saw them.

You can remember their general set of bones yielding high at six feet,

But what about the new wrinkles creasing above their eyebrows?

What of the scars they’ve accumulated in your absence you'll never know about?

The ticking stops.

Who you knew, no longer pieces together.

Perhaps you were just a temporary foil in their story,

Someone who taught them a truth they couldn’t afford to grant themselves.

We all become lessons.

There are versions you remember…

Roles they played in your stellar novel,

One can hope their presence was worth the heartache.

Your organ still pulses in hopes that one day they’ll return.

But would they re-read the end of your tale?

And say what you’ve been yearning to hear,

All in the same baritone tone you thought you had forgotten?

Laiba Haque is a 19-year-old student studying Psychology with a minor in creative writing and sociology at the University of Mississauga. She is incredibly passionate about artistic endeavours such as fashion, art, poetry along with film, and self-betterment. Haque hopes to impact people with my writing and relate to a vast number of individuals. Her evolution of writing began with scribbles in her notes app, to lengthy vocal rants in her stored memos.