The door clicked shut

The door clicked shut.

Not a slam, just a final sound.

The air, thick with what was not said,

settled.

It’s a different quiet than sleep,

or the waiting for rain.

This is the hollowed-out kind.

A crumpled tissue on the floor,

dampness clinging.

It remembers the tears.

Or maybe it doesn't.

It’s just there.

And the silence is vast.