It was the silence that sounded the loudest.
It was the gloss in my eyes that shined the most.
It was the absence of your hand in mine that felt the heaviest.
It was your inaudible exhale
that answered the questions I never dared to ask.
It was a dull sensation to be honest.
It was a gradual realization
that this will soon become a memory
for me to remember
but for you to forget.
I never knew I needed armor
just to protect myself from a surrender.
You were the one who walked away
but why did I feel
like I was the one who had lost.
I can never consider your retreat a victory
because it tasted too much like defeat.
How could I have lost bullets to retaliate with
when you're the one who's pulled the trigger?
You raised the white flag
but why am I the only one bleeding?