Gone

Quiet was always a niche for me to reside, sleeping in the crook of the elbow,
It had your face, your ease, the lack of noise when correcting the faults of our inevitable humanity;
When you left, even your footprints were hardly there, a ghost coming and going forth,
Just a breath of “goodbye” when someone noticed your leaving,
I thought I could see right through you like the holes in your earlobes, Eventually,
I thought,
I would hear the sound of your life–still sealed behind guarded lips–
But I suppose I’d also hear the demons stomping on eggshells, laughing and crying, having a ball;
All I ever heard was quiet from you, gentle and soothing, an anchor to our storms,
I basked in the way you ate at my clouds, took the lead;
You stood firm, and I–we–admired your posture.

When you left, I breathed “bye-bye” and you said “goodbye” and I thought I’d see you again,
But a text two days later and an empty space where you ought to be were all the byes you left;
An apology, but you were already gone;
A period instead of a comma.

That was when
Quiet became silence.

-Mien