Losing a fight

The door slammed—my words

caught in the crack of a mirror,

fractured reflections staring back,

sharp and broken like glass.

You had the last word, but it wasn’t

about winning—just silence,

a quiet that crept under my skin,

learning that some battles

are losses before they start.

I swallowed the ache, tasted defeat

and found something harder,

a quiet hum beneath the noise,

something to carry without weight.