#TwoStormsOneHeart
#TSOH
Part 1
Poem - #5
___
Written Thoughts
Alone at night, she took her pen,
Her mind returned to thoughts of him again.
A careless boy, so light, so free—
Yet something deeper called to me.
In swift, sharp lines, she carved her view,
Of careless souls, their hearts askew.
She wrote of fools who laugh and jest,
While hiding pain behind each jest.
“A wandering heart, a fleeting soul,”
She wrote, as ink began to roll.
“A man who’s lost his way in jest,
A restless heart, no place to rest.”
Her hand faltered, the words half-formed,
Her judgement firm, her thoughts still stormed.
“Why do you bother me?” she whispered aloud,
Her voice breaking the room’s silent shroud.
For in her thoughts, his grin remained,
A mask for wounds, a smile sustained.
She sighed and wrote:
"He hides behind the world’s delight,
A laughing star in endless night.
Yet in his eyes, the shadows play,
A restless soul, lost in disarray."
The next morning came, her words still raw,
She read them back, unsure what she saw.
The sharp-edged lines now felt too bare,
As if revealing more than she dared.
She snapped her notebook shut and sighed,
“Enough,” she murmured, her thoughts denied.
But before she could tuck it away unseen,
The door swung open—Leo intervened.
“Good morning, poet,” he said with a grin,
His casual charm, a veil too thin.
She stiffened, her notebook held tight,
“Do you ever knock?” she snapped, outright.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he teased, stepping near,
“But what’s this?” His tone shifted, sincere.
Her hands faltered as he reached for the book,
“Don’t,” she said firmly, her voice shook.
“Relax, Isabel,” he said, his smile sly,
“I just want to see what words catch your eye.”
But he caught the hesitation in her gaze,
And in that moment, his grin betrayed.
“I said no, Leo,” she repeated, her tone hard,
But he gently plucked the book from her guard.
Flipping through pages, his eyes caught a verse,
His teasing tone softened, no longer terse.
"A laughing star in endless night,
Yet in his eyes, the shadows fight."
He read aloud, his voice subdued,
The words hung heavy, shifting his mood.
“Is this... about me?” he asked, unsure,
His charm now gone, his tone demure.
She snatched the book, her cheeks aflame,
“Not everything’s about you,” she exclaimed.
He didn’t buy it, but let it slide,
Instead, he said, “You’ve got an eye inside.
Your words—they see more than most would dare.”
She glared at him. “Do you even care?”
“More than you think,” he murmured low,
His grin replaced with something that showed
A deeper thought, a silent plea,
That maybe her words had made him see.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she countered cold,
But her voice betrayed the truth untold.
And as he left, the words lingered still,
Each one piercing, each one filled.
For Leo, those lines cut straight and true,
A mirror reflecting what he always knew.
And Isabel, left alone with her pen,
Found her thoughts returning to him again.
— @aarushaydee
#TSOH
Part 1
Poem - #5
___
Alone at night, she took her pen,
Her mind returned to thoughts of him again.
A careless boy, so light, so free—
Yet something deeper called to me.
In swift, sharp lines, she carved her view,
Of careless souls, their hearts askew.
She wrote of fools who laugh and jest,
While hiding pain behind each jest.
“A wandering heart, a fleeting soul,”
She wrote, as ink began to roll.
“A man who’s lost his way in jest,
A restless heart, no place to rest.”
Her hand faltered, the words half-formed,
Her judgement firm, her thoughts still stormed.
“Why do you bother me?” she whispered aloud,
Her voice breaking the room’s silent shroud.
For in her thoughts, his grin remained,
A mask for wounds, a smile sustained.
She sighed and wrote:
"He hides behind the world’s delight,
A laughing star in endless night.
Yet in his eyes, the shadows play,
A restless soul, lost in disarray."
The next morning came, her words still raw,
She read them back, unsure what she saw.
The sharp-edged lines now felt too bare,
As if revealing more than she dared.
She snapped her notebook shut and sighed,
“Enough,” she murmured, her thoughts denied.
But before she could tuck it away unseen,
The door swung open—Leo intervened.
“Good morning, poet,” he said with a grin,
His casual charm, a veil too thin.
She stiffened, her notebook held tight,
“Do you ever knock?” she snapped, outright.
“Where’s the fun in that?” he teased, stepping near,
“But what’s this?” His tone shifted, sincere.
Her hands faltered as he reached for the book,
“Don’t,” she said firmly, her voice shook.
“Relax, Isabel,” he said, his smile sly,
“I just want to see what words catch your eye.”
But he caught the hesitation in her gaze,
And in that moment, his grin betrayed.
“I said no, Leo,” she repeated, her tone hard,
But he gently plucked the book from her guard.
Flipping through pages, his eyes caught a verse,
His teasing tone softened, no longer terse.
"A laughing star in endless night,
Yet in his eyes, the shadows fight."
He read aloud, his voice subdued,
The words hung heavy, shifting his mood.
“Is this... about me?” he asked, unsure,
His charm now gone, his tone demure.
She snatched the book, her cheeks aflame,
“Not everything’s about you,” she exclaimed.
He didn’t buy it, but let it slide,
Instead, he said, “You’ve got an eye inside.
Your words—they see more than most would dare.”
She glared at him. “Do you even care?”
“More than you think,” he murmured low,
His grin replaced with something that showed
A deeper thought, a silent plea,
That maybe her words had made him see.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she countered cold,
But her voice betrayed the truth untold.
And as he left, the words lingered still,
Each one piercing, each one filled.
For Leo, those lines cut straight and true,
A mirror reflecting what he always knew.
And Isabel, left alone with her pen,
Found her thoughts returning to him again.
— @aarushaydee
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