poem

Return on Indifference

(break-up point, audit pending)
Chronology was considered. It was rejected.

I used to think closure arrived like a weather event—loud, dramatic, undeniable.
Turns out it’s quieter: a line item. A soft “no” filed under “finally.”

Somewhere between the unsent paragraphs and the almost-apologies,
I learned the math of it:
how much attention I paid,
how little it paid me back.

Indifference is a strange currency.
You can spend it like confidence.
You can hoard it like protection.
But eventually you check your balance and realize:
you’ve been funding someone else’s comfort.

So this is the receipt.
Not angry. Not pleading.
Just… accurate.

Return on indifference:
a silver lining,
a closed door,
and the sudden gift of not needing to knock.