To no one
After
you deleted
your profile,
I had
no number.
No email.
No name
to search.
Just
a blinking cursor
where you
used to reply.
Still —
I kept
writing.
Sometimes
just:
“Hi.”
Or
“Would you have answered
today?”
Or
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Or
“This morning hurt more
than usual.”
I never
hit send.
I never
had to.
They ended up
where you used to be.
And maybe
that’s enough
to keep
the silence warm.
Gordan Struić is a poet and writer from Zagreb, Croatia. He writes at the edge of signal and silence, where unsent messages, ghosted chats, and invisible departures echo longer than words. His work appears or is forthcoming in 34th Parallel, Voidspace, Beyond Words, Stone Poetry Quarterly, Prosetrics Magazine, among others.