Stories That Smileys Never Tell

Before emojis, words had shadows.

They hesitated, lingered, trembled.

This piece is a small elegy for the meanings we lost in the glow of perfect reactions.

In a world
crowded with language
yet strangely emptied of listening,

we scatter smileys—
small yellow suns
pressed onto the sky of every sentence.

They glow.
They perform.
They promise clarity.

And in their polished brightness
something softer begins to disappear.

Between two curved lines of a grin
whole forests fall silent—
the tremor in a voice,
the ache hidden in a pause,
the fragile hesitation
before saying I miss you.

Smileys do not tremble.
They do not falter.
They never carry the weight
of a word that almost breaks
while leaving the mouth.

Once,
meaning moved like a gentle breeze—
slipping between syllables,
resting in commas,
lingering in the hush after a full stop.

Desire drifted like the fragrance of wild roses—
unannounced,
uncontained,
waiting for someone patient enough
to lean closer.

Words had crevices then.
Secret chambers.
Hidden staircases.

They invited guests.
They welcomed visitors
who arrived not to consume,
but to dwell.

Now,
we rush through conversations
as though they were highways—
liking, sharing, reacting,
leaving behind neat rows of perfect faces.

No misreading.
No mystery.
No delicious uncertainty
that once made language
an adventure.

Smileys are loud and obedient.
They explain too quickly.
They tidy up what should have remained
beautifully unresolved.

And somewhere
in the quiet margins of a sentence
a shy metaphor waits—
unnoticed,
unopened,
like a letter never read twice.

The delicate rhythms,
the trembling songs,
the secret pulse beneath a phrase—

they fade
when yellow certainty
pushes wandering words
to the edge of expression.

For there are stories
that cannot fit
inside a circle of bright approval.

There are sorrows
too sacred for a frown icon.

There are longings
that refuse to become
a convenient red heart.

And there are silences—
deep,
resonant,
aching—

that only words,
with all their imperfect shadows,
can carry home.