My Fault (5) Poem by Quinn Talen

The morning she left felt colder than winter.
Not because the sun refused to rise—
But because she did.
Quietly.
Without a sound.
Without goodbye.

Her side of the bed was still warm,
But empty—
Like the echo of her name in my mind
That refused to fade.

I sat up,
Half hoping it was a dream.
That she'd return with her messy hair,
Her sleepy smile,
And curl back into me like she used to.
But she didn't.

She was gone.
Just like that.

No note.
No message.
Just a memory
And a silence too loud for the walls to hold.

I wanted to be angry.
I wanted to scream,
Ask her why,
Ask what I did wrong—
But deep down…
I already knew.

I got too close.
I moved too fast.
I read softness as forever
When it was only ever meant to be a spark.

She warned me in her stillness.
In her hesitations.
In the way her eyes begged me to feel less
Even when her lips told me more.

But I didn't listen.
I let myself fall.
And now here I am…
Holding on to air,
Whispering her name to a room
That will never speak it back.

It was my fault.
For loving her like she was mine
When she was never staying.