With just a glimpse, I felt the storm—
no words, no winds, yet far from warm.
Your silence louder than a shout,
a quiet way to cast me out.

A second's glance, your face was steel,
no flicker showed I made you feel.
No breath of ease, no softening gaze—
just frost beneath the summer haze.

I didn’t need to meet your eyes,
the ache was plain, the truth precise.
Each blink, each sigh, a subtle plea:
“Please—don’t stay here next to me.”