Afterthoughts

Scrolling through my phone,

i see your name light up, a quiet ache—

remnants of a night where everything felt charged,

but morning came,

like that last sip of cold coffee—

empty, bitter, and forgotten.

Those unmade sheets still bear

the imprint of our bodies,

each tangled thread a story lost,

I grasp at echoes,

did we even touch,

or was it just a skin-deep moment,

a slip of silence where

even the whispers meant nothing?

I shake my head, trying to cast aside

the weight you left behind.