Omission

You never struck me.

You never screamed.

You just

didn’t.

The lightbulb burned out.

You left it.

My name wilted in your mouth.

You never watered it.

I built whole earthquakes

from the silence between

your footsteps and mine.

Even ghosts need to be noticed—

but you,

you made me

invisible

without killing me.

That’s the trick, isn’t it?

Neglect doesn’t bruise.

It erases.