We passed without a word—

We passed without a word—

like two streets that forgot their names.

Your glance skimming off my face,

as if I were just a shadow,

fading into the chipped asphalt.

No footsteps stopped to gather dust,

no voice broke the half-broken space.

Just silence bending sharp and thin

between us,

like a wound too deep to touch.

Two figures shrinking fast,

pulling threads loose until nothing held,

no notes exchanged,

no hands reached out

just the echo of what used to be.

And in that quiet, I learned

how a friendship can die,

not in fire,

but in frozen air

and footsteps that don’t turn back.