https://images.hive.blog/DQmPhKAGySijZQYi7TpswiCmuvNWLXoBPVTgJvzswUgBhFJ/boy-7016083_1280.jpg
[Pixabay](https://pixabay.com/photos/search/sad/)
I spoke too loudly in moments of silence.
Cracked a joke when she wanted peace,
Brushed her off with half attention,
Now I wonder why she left.
I missed the quiver in her laughter. Disregarded the stillness in her eyes, Thought love could live without tending, And continue to survive on hollow tries.
And I would nod and switch tracks. Avoid the depth, deflect the truth. Until the day she stopped looking back.
No slamming door, no final scream, Just distance spreads like winter air, And then, the heat was gone. And I was left with my own stare.
I used to think she'd always be there. That patience lived without demand, But hearts get weary of being second.
Of holding on with only one hand.
So when the texts became nothing, And calls were disconnected into the blue,
I felt the pain I used to inflict.
In those I’d ghosted, I just got through.
Karma does not knock with thunder, It whispers softly in the late moments.
It returns what you have provided. Serves the dish you assisted in creating.
So here I sit in silent knowing,
Not bitter, though the pain is intense.
Just sincerely with my own reflection. I broke it, and now I have the shards.
I won't act like she was cruel to me.
Or do like she owed me one more chance. Some things do not come gift-wrapped in mercy.
Some happened as a result, not as a result of opportunity.
I Probably deserve that ending.
That silence is treatment, the cold treatment, and the flat treatment. It's not because I want to harm her—But it's because I didn't feel anything for her.