DIGITS OF THE HEART

📘 Chapter 7: Clarion’s Reckoning

The host stepped up again, voice buzzing with excitement.

“We’ve got a surprise second piece from Clarion Harriet. Y’all ready?”

The crowd roared. Harizon’s pulse quickened. Zawadi sat still, her expression unreadable.

Clarion walked back onto the stage, notebook closed this time. She didn’t need it.

“This one’s not for the judges,” she said. “It’s for someone who changed my trajectory… and maybe forgot he did.”

She looked directly at Harizon.

Unsent Messages

I wrote you letters

In the margins of lab reports

Between the lines of chemical reactions

Where I hoped you’d notice

The way I lingered

The way I listened

I saved your voice

In the echo of my experiments

Tried to replicate the feeling

Of being seen

Of being understood

But you were always chasing the next formula

I watched you

Fall in love with ideas

But never ask what mine cost me

I wanted you to ask

Just once

Why I stayed late

Why I hesitated

I’m not angry

I’m just tired

Of being a footnote

In someone else’s breakthrough

So this is my final draft

No edits

No citations

Just truth—

I liked you

But I won’t wait for you to notice

Silence.

No applause. Just stunned faces.

Harizon felt like the floor had tilted. The poem was raw, unfiltered, and painfully honest. It wasn’t just about admiration, it was about absence. About being overlooked.

Zawadi didn’t look at him. She stared straight ahead, jaw clenched.

Clarion stepped down, walked past Harizon without a glance, and disappeared backstage.

The host tried to recover, calling up the next performer. But the energy had shifted. The slam was no longer just art, it was personal.

Harizon sat frozen.

“You okay?” Zawadi asked, voice low.

“I didn’t know she felt that way,” he said.

“You didn’t ask,” Zawadi replied.