worldsaway

It’s the silence
that undoes me.

Not the words—
the absence of them.

Because silence, to me,
has never been peaceful.
It has always meant danger,
a warning I learned too young:
you did something wrong,
and now you don’t deserve
to be heard.

The quiet stretches—
cold, punishing,
familiar.

My heart tightens
like it remembers before I do.
My stomach turns,
food becomes impossible,
days pass in a hollow ache
of not knowing.

What did I do?
Where did I slip?
How did I break something
I can’t even see?

The questions circle,
sharp and endless.

I replay every word,
every moment,
searching for the mistake
that cost me your voice.

Please—
just talk to me.

Say anything.
Even the truth,
even if it hurts.

Just don’t leave me
in this silence
where everything feels like my fault
and nothing feels okay.