The Silent Room

Some endings don’t shout. They just stop answering. Your name stays

in my mouth long after the conversation ends. I learned how much space a

person leaves behind how a room can widen, how silence learns new shapes.

We didn’t break. We forgot how to hold each other, little by little,

like hands loosening in sleep. Love didn’t leave. It stood still, waiting,

until it realized it was alone. The hardest goodbyes are the ones never spoken

the ones that echo quietly, everywhere you are not.