Quiet Echoes

I typed it out loud, the small triumph

buzzing in my fingers — I’d nailed the test,

scored the point, hit the mark.

The screen glowed back, cold and indifferent,

blue ticks dead on delivery, no replies.

Just silence, digital space swallowing words,

a bubble shouting without sound.

The phone hummed in the dark room,

a quiet ghost of all the noise I’d made,

waiting for a crack, a spark, a single glance.

Nothing.

So I watched the little blue bubble fade

against the wallpaper of night,

wondering if I’d ever learn how to shout

and not disappear.