The Day I Didn’t Show Up

I watched the sky shift from bright to bruised,

and the pamphlet lay crumpled,

face down

beside my cold coffee ring.

The paper folded like a promise I never made.

Neighbors’ voices spilled outside,

laughter and footsteps on cracked sidewalks,

while I stared at the blank spot

where my choice should have been.

Scrolling feeds, scrolling away

from the moment I said nothing.

It wasn’t apathy—no,

more like surrender,

the weight of every story I couldn't fix

pressed hard against my chest.

The ballot stayed untouched,

a silent hole

in the day’s loud noise.

Maybe next time,

maybe.