21/08/2025
Your silence repeats itself like a pattern,
each unanswered word a wall
rising higher between us.
And every distance you place
becomes a language of refusal—
a quiet way of telling me
you do not wish to stay,
you do not wish to try.
I called out in hopes you’d meet me,
but your absence echoed louder than my plea.
What we could have mended
was left untouched,
not by accident,
but by choice made in stillness.
So now I understand—
it is not anger,
not shouting,
not storms that end us.
It is this silence,
this steady retreat,
that tells me you’ve already let go
long before I do.
