How can it be, that
your heart is carved from ice, when
all you breathe is fire?
*
How can you say, that
you are flooded with truth, when
all you rain are lies?
*
How do you believe
we’ve sown the seeds of love, when
your sprouts are poison?
*
You ask how we died.
I ran out of breath, my dear.
It’s elemental.
About the Creator
Cathy holmes
Canadian family girl with a recently discovered love for writing. Other loves include animals and sports.
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The Unnecessary Line
I. The Line No One Asked For There is a line drawn in quiet ink between what matters and what we pretend does not. It rests unnoticed at the margin of our days, thin as a whisper, fragile as dust on forgotten shelves. We call it unnecessary— that extra sentence, that soft apology, that pause before goodbye. We strike it through with hurried hands. We erase it with confident erasers. We fold the page and move on. But the line remains. It lingers in the corner like a shadow at noon, small but stubborn, refusing to disappear. And though we label it useless, though we cross it out twice, it hums beneath the surface like a secret we cannot silence. II. In the Middle of the Page Sometimes the unnecessary line sits in the middle— interrupting logic, breaking symmetry, ruining the perfection we worked so hard to design. It does not rhyme when the others rhyme. It does not fit the rhythm of the room. It stands alone, awkward and uneven, like a thought spoken too honestly in a world rehearsed. And we dislike it for that. We prefer our stories clean, our emotions trimmed, our paragraphs disciplined like soldiers in formation. But the unnecessary line refuses formation. It wanders across the page, leans into white space, breathes where others hold their breath. It dares to say what the polished lines avoid: “I am afraid.” “I am uncertain.” “I am not finished.” It is the line that trembles. The line that breaks voice. The line that carries truth without decoration. III. The Line Between People There is another line— invisible, but heavier than ink. The line between you and me. The one drawn by pride, by misunderstanding, by words unsaid and apologies delayed. We think it is unnecessary. We say, “It’s nothing.” “It doesn’t matter.” “Forget it.” But the line grows. It thickens with silence. It sharpens with distance. It stretches across rooms until even laughter cannot cross it. What we call unnecessary often becomes a wall. And what we refuse to write becomes the loudest absence in the book of us. If only we would write that extra line— “I was wrong.” “I miss you.” “Let’s begin again.” One simple sentence could erase a thousand carefully constructed barriers. IV. The Line We Cross There is also a line we promise never to cross. A boundary of fear. A border of doubt. A quiet edge where dreams hesitate. We draw it ourselves— a neat division between who we are and who we might become. “This is enough,” we say. “This is safe.” And beyond that line lies risk. Beyond it— possibility. We tell ourselves that stepping over it is unnecessary. Why chase more? Why risk falling? Why disturb the familiar ground? But the unnecessary line is often the doorway disguised as a warning. The step we fear is sometimes the step that carries us forward. The dream we dismiss as unrealistic may simply be waiting for courage to underline it. V. The Final Line At the end of every poem there is a final line. Some are grand. Some are quiet. Some echo like thunder. Some fade like mist. But imagine if the last line never existed. If the poem simply stopped— mid-thought, mid-breath, mid-heartbeat. Would it feel complete? Perhaps the unnecessary line is not unnecessary at all. Perhaps it is the breath between chaos and clarity. The space where meaning settles. The small stitch that holds the fabric together. The extra word that turns a statement into a confession. The gentle pause that turns noise into music. Maybe the unnecessary line is the most human of all— imperfect, hesitant, honest. It may not shine like the others. It may not stand tall in bold ink. But it carries something rare: The courage to exist without permission. So leave it there— that crooked sentence, that fragile truth, that vulnerable whisper. Let it remain in the margin of your life. Because sometimes the line we almost erase is the line that saves the poem.
By AFTAB KHAN3 days ago in Poets
Comments (37)
How the effing jeffing bezos did I miss this bonfire of emotion? this is incredible, Cathy. As usual you find new ways to blow me the hell away, well done on this buddy!
This is powerfully and brilliantly written. I couldn’t pick one line to highlight. I have to say the entire poem is spot on!
Wow! This is pure genius. I wasn't around for this challenge, or I would have predicted a win for you.
The last stanza is splendid!!!
Ooh, I like how this builds and the structure. I love that snappy ending too. 👏
Cathy Holmes, I like the Tone which is spoken 😉❤️💯📝👍💥
Wow! That was incredible.
Lovely!
Excellent piece and a chance of another Challenge win methinks.
Why I do believe you have the hang of this Haiku thingy. Always fun to read your work
Ooh so good! I love the juxtaposition of each piece, riveting!
Beautiful. Powerful. Evocative. Love it, Cathy!
Beautiful.
This is hauntingly beautiful Cathy! 🤍
Your structural repetition works really well, Cathy. The question/answer in. All four - slightly different with the "statement" question in the final summation. Smooth. Intelligent.
Love how you crafted this! The words and sentiments just flow...
Holy shit this is incredible
You are so good Cathy, you make it look easy
Wow I stand my ground — you are the Haiku Queen 🙇♀️🙇♀️🙇♀️
WOW, this blew me away. Gorgeous, layered, and full of meaning. This one will be sticking with me for a while. Thank you for writing and sharing this piece. ❤️
You have such a way with rhythm in your writing!
I have to say, this one blew...the socks right off my feet. Great job with the prompt.
I now feel horrible about my plants that died because of my miserable green thumb- lol. Seriously though this poem is excellent with so much said . Love it - it is elemental ❤️
I like how this carries the reader through the emotions of love.
O M G!! You've got me again Holmes with a literary punch in the stomach... The power of the punch from such an economy words - mind blowing and well... elemental. Here here dear friend!