[Her]
If somebody had asked,
I would have said,
"I just want one person to stay."
[Him]
If I'd known just how far gone you were,
I wouldn't have waited with bated breath for something to say.
I would've said anything—
Even if it sounded awful.
[Her]
I didn't want to vanish.
I just didn't know how to stay without getting lost.
[Him]
I saw you smile.
And I believed it.
That's my fault.
[Her]
I left pieces of me around
hoping that someone would come and pick them up.
You were the one who did.
[Him]
I replay it all.
That moment in the stairwell.
The unread message.
The silence.
All of it.
Everything.
[Her]
I wanted you to say something.
Even just, "I see you."
That might've been enough.
[Him]
You messaged me first.
And I took too long to answer.
There's no getting that time back.
[Her]
This isn't your fault.
But I hope it changes you.
I hope you speak up next time.
[Him]
You should be here.
You ought to have known you weren't too much.
You never were too much.
[Both]
We walked past each other in the same corridors,
both softly shattering.
But no one warns you of the sound of silence.
No one informs you that it's also a language.
[Her — soft whisper]
If there's another life.
Perhaps we'll get it right next time.
[Him — alone]
I talk to you sometimes.
Not out loud—only in my mind.
That you still smile.