A Study In Goodbye

Soft Exit Tactic

0328.2025

You don’t vanish—

you drift.

A pause lengthens,

warmth thins,

messages arrive late—

their meaning lost.

You choose silence

like chiffon—

folded neatly,

placed just so.

The silent cut,

of unsaid words.

You ask to meet

knowing I can’t,

as though forgetting

is easier

than refusing.

(Maybe for you, true.)

I’ve read the script—

at first,

the slow retreat,

the soft descent,

the affection turns static

without a storm.

You’d rather fade

than fall,

slip the tether

without warning

or respect.

No reckoning,

nor flame—

Just distance

disguised as time.

But I feel you

exiting the room

while you smile.

I know

how goodbye sounds

when it tries

not to be heard.

m.c.f.