Indifference

It isn’t their absence that breaks you.

Absence is something you can learn to live with,

like an empty chair at the table,

a silence you grow used to.

What cuts deepest

is their indifference

the way you ache like a ruined cathedral,

walls cracked,

echoes still clinging to the air,

and they walk past as if nothing was ever there.

They don’t stop to notice

the beauty that once lived in your stone,

the hands that carved,

the songs that filled your arches.

They pass you by

as if you were never holy,

as if your ruin was all you ever were.

And that is what destroys you—

not the loss of them,

but the way they choose not to see

what you still are.

-dmnd