I pressed send
and shut the door behind the words.
She’ll know they were mine,
even without a name,
but that’s all she’ll get—
a voice without a window,
a letter without return.
No profile left to haunt,
no curtain to peek behind,
no stage for her shadow
to stretch across my life.
What’s left is silence.
But silence isn’t empty—
it’s a space reborn,
a place where I can breathe again.
In that quiet,
the hum of my own life rises,
steady, unbroken,
holy in its simplicity.
No echoes.
No chase.
No noise.
Only peace.
Only quiet.
Only me.