What if I set the pen down
and let the ink dry in its well,
leave verses half-formed,
like abandoned prayers
that no one will answer?

What if I stop trying,
let the weight of silence
settle in my throat,
unspoken words fossilizing
into something brittle,
something useless?

What if I forget how to dream,
let my hands go slack,
my thoughts unspool
into empty corridors
where even echoes
refuse to stay?

What if I stop writing,
stop speaking,
stop being—
until I fade like a name
erased from the margins,
a story untold,
a breath no one remembers?

What if I give up?
And what if no one notices?