I Called, But There Was No Answer

I called, but there was no answer—

just the hollow ring

of my own hope bouncing back at me.

The line stayed open,

silent as an empty room

where your name still hangs in the air.

I rehearsed what I would’ve said,

every apology, every truth,

but silence swallowed them whole.

Maybe you were busy living,

or maybe you were learning

how to forget the sound of my voice.

I let the phone fall to my side,

realizing some distances

aren’t measured in miles—

they’re measured in unanswered calls.