It was nothing more than words;
yet no note, no apology, no voice.
The silence surrounding your actions
was speaking volumes past our memories.
A false tear to fall here, there –
mumbles about how that wasn’t home,
followed by sighs, and promises
that wouldn’t make it to the trash.

You let me hold you that night,
a truth that’d never pass your lips.
Perhaps, that was your goodbye –
a tell-tale sign of cowardice,
mixed with betrayal, and fatigue.
I was only searching for two words,
buried and set aflame in June –
just speak with me darling, come home.