After the Last “Seen”
—
Last night I watched my words dissolve
in the empty glow of your unread notification.
My heart hammered like a buried drum—
a pulse you no longer felt. Under streetlamps
I traced your silence in the condensation on cold glass,
where every breath was a question without reply.
—
How many of us have lingered at “Seen,”
our own echoes fading in the void?
Share your last unread moment below—
let’s fill this silence with our stories.
.
.