Amelia James Poetry

You didn’t just leave,
you erased me.
Like a name written in sand
before the tide rushes in.

One day, I was your always,
the next, I was nothing.
No warning, no slow unraveling,
just silence where a heartbeat used to be.

I replay the last time you said my name,
trace the syllables with shaking hands.
Did you already know then,
that you’d never say it again?

You left like a slamming door,
like a book snapped shut mid-sentence.
No final page, no ending—
just gone.

And I am left screaming into an echo,
whispering your name like a prayer
to a god who stopped listening.

-Amelia James