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No Warning
“No Warning”
He left.
No fight.
No warning.
Just vanished
like love was a switch
he got bored of leaving on.
And I stood there
mid-sentence,
mid-heartbeat,
mid-trust
watching everything I believed in
turn to static.
It wasn’t just the leaving.
It was the silence.
The nothing.
The way he made it feel
like I wasn’t even worth
a goodbye.
That was the last straw.
Not the worst thing
that’s ever happened to me,
just the thing that tipped the weight
I’d been carrying
like a secret.
Now I sleep like I’m drowning.
Wake up already exhausted.
Smile like I’m not unraveling
underneath my hoodie and headphones
and all these layers I wear
so no one sees me breaking.
I say “I’m fine”
with the same mouth
I used to say “I love you.”
But now both feel like lies.
I don’t trust people.
Not after that.
Not after giving someone my heart
only to watch them
drop it like an afterthought.
I don’t open up.
I shut down.
I make jokes.
I say “lol”
while thinking about how loud
the quiet has gotten.
I cancel plans.
I flake.
I drift.
Because I don’t have the energy
to pretend I care
when I barely remember
how it feels
to feel at all.
This isn’t a phase.
It’s not edgy.
It’s not rebellion.
It’s depression
with glitter on top
so no one calls it what it is.
I’m in my
“don’t expect anything from me”
era.
The one where I ghost myself
before you can.
The one where love feels like a trap,
and safety
is a lie I don’t buy anymore.
He left with no warning.
But the fallout?
The aftershocks?
That’s the part
I’m still cleaning up
in silence.
Copyright ©
Chloe Hyer
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