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.
