I am a neurodivergent and introverted poet from Alpha Centauri currently touring your Solar System. Yes, I am an alien. Be my reader at your human risk.
Letters Unsent is a collection of reflections and musings—thoughts I often write as letters to myself or to an imagined world. These words remain unsent, holding emotions and ideas meant for deeper reflection, waiting to be shared with those who pause to listen.
I think that’s the problem. Either I love too much or not at all. Either I enjoy your company or feel disgusted by every moment. I live to the extremes. I think that’s the problem. Either I dream too much or not at all. Either I crave the silence or drown in the noise. Either […]
If I am visible, why do they treat me like a ghost? And if I am invisible, then why does this mirror reflect the light scattered by my silhouette? Even a mirror acknowledges my presence but people won’t. — Sadia Hakim // Letters Unsent Read, I am a black butterfly poem, here.
When you have shared your world, cut open with someone, a desire is born—a desire to see their souls, to touch their hearts by sadia hakim
My veins constrict with the madness of Dostoyevsky’s forsaken. I am a black butterfly—I am an unforgettably haunting experience.
History has never recorded a silent collapse. Every fallen empire, every ruined kingdom, every lost civilization left behind echoes of its own destruction—cries of war, screams of rebellion, whispers of resistance. But this? This is different. We are watching our world crumble, and yet, there is no uproar. No defiance. No collective grief. Just quiet […]
What they name dissociation, depression, anxiety, and emotional numbing is my life. Am I just pathetic, or is this what it means to be human?
If something is good for you, I will give it to you a million billion times. And if you ask for it a million more times, I will give it to you. letters unsent
The monster inside me feels human when I’m with you.
And with you, the monster inside me feels human. I want to feel human.
I would die for this land—for its moonrises and sunsets — honoring Palestine’s struggles, a poem of love and loss for Palestinians by sadia hakim
There was a time when a wound was meant to hurt, but we have become a leprous society that is rotting in silence. — Sadia Hakim