They said pain makes you see things clearer.
I just didnʼt expect
it would take
an accident
to realize.
It happened fast.
The sky flipped.
Glass flew.
Metal twisted like paper,
and my heart sank into a silence
so loud it made my ears bleed.
I was still breathing.
I think.
Maybe.
I didnʼt know.
The sirens were loud.
But not as loud as the silence in my phone.
My first thought wasnʼt my parents.
Not my job.
Not even God.
It was you.
Of course it was you.
I texted you, with fingers that shook.
My blood on the screen.
"I had an accident."
And I waited.
Eyes blurry from the crash.
Heart still stupid enough to hope.
You read it.
You fucking read it.
One blue tick.
Two blue ticks.
Seen.
But never answered.
No
"Are you okay?"
No
"Where are you?"
No call.
No car.
No knock on the hospital door.
Nothing.
And I waited,
through blood tests and blurry eyes,
with the smell of antiseptic
and pain medicine
and the weight of absence
pressing harder than any wound.
Everyone came.
My best friends.
The people who barely talked to me anymore.
Even my ex.
They brought flowers,
tears,
chocolates.
But you̶
You didnʼt.
You didnʼt show.
Didnʼt even pretend.
Didnʼt even fucking lie.
You.
The one I thought
would run barefoot across the city
just to hold my hand.
The one who used to drive 8 miles for ice cream
but couldnʼt spare 8 seconds for a reply.
You didnʼt even fucking ask if I was breathing.
If my bones were still whole.
If I could still walk.
You̶
who once said youʼd stay awake all night just to
make me feel safe,
couldnʼt bother to show up when I needed you
the most.
What the hell was I to you?
A side quest?
A rainy day hobby?
I almost died, Grey.
And you didnʼt care.
Not even a little.
Funny, isnʼt it?
How I kept writing poems for someone
who wouldnʼt even write,
"Are you okay?"
And thatʼs when I knew̶
You were never mine.
Not even close.
Not even kind.
Not even
a friend.