ALL THIS ANGER WAS ONCE LOVE

Hi, it’s been a minute since you and I talked.  
Did you miss me back, just like I did?  
Or did time erase me,  scattering me like dust in the wind?  
A love text could have brightened my day. Talk to me.  
I’m tired of these endless debates, Fighting to see who hurts who.  
We cannot find comfort in silence, Nor peace in all these shouts. Talk to me.

Do you feel it?  
The weight of my double texts, Each one silently screaming,  
"Babe, I’m hurting."
Do you feel the weight of your absence pressing heavy against my chest?  
The heaviness of memories convincing me I’m slowly dying?  
Feel it. It’s me your hero, but now an empty vessel, reduced to zero.  

This is not us.  
We never found love in chaos, we never did.  
Not in messages left on “read,”  
nor in words left unsaid, Swallowed whole by pride.  
Not in short replies, Each one a blade cutting our conversations short.  
The distance between us has made our love feel blurry,  
obscured, diluted, stripped of meaning.
Just like a once-clear vision clouded by doubts.  
This is not us.