We Didn’t Say Anything
I didn’t say anything.
You didn’t either.
The silence wasn’t tense.
It was structured.
Like a building that knew
it would someday collapse on us.
You looked at me
like I’d already died
but forgot to stop moving.
I blinked,
and you mistook it for agreement.
The fan clicked.
The air fled.
We kept not speaking
until our names faded from our mouths.
The ceiling didn’t fall.
We just stood up shorter.
By the end,
we hadn’t said so many things
that the room
forgot what language looked like.
No final word.
Just a chair,
facing the wrong way.
Posted Jun 4, 2025, 6:55 AM UTC
2220