The Silent Withdraw
Read more poetry by Britt Wolfe
There will be no scene.
No shouting through the closing door,
no echo of unfinished sentences.
Just the faint sound
of footsteps turning inward.
I have grown tired
of auditioning for affection,
of offering explanations
to ears that only ever wanted echoes.
So I am leaving quietly—
not in anger,
not in grief,
but in surrender.
A soft retreat into evanescence.
No gnashing of teeth.
No proof left on the floor.
Only the whisper of what once reached for love
and finally reached for peace instead.
One day,
you may notice the absence—
the silence where my voice used to hum
between your noise.
You’ll look up,
expecting the old choreography of conflict,
and find only air.
I will not fight to stay.
I will not bleed for belonging.
I will not shout my worth
into an empty room.
I am simply stepping out of the frame,
letting the picture close without me.
This is not punishment.
It’s release.
The art of going unseen
without disappearing.
The grace of saying nothing—
and meaning everything.
Keep My Words Alive
If this poem has stayed with you, you can help keep my words alive or explore more of my work. Every bit of support helps carry the stories forward.
WHERE WORDS MEET MORNING LIGHT
BEGIN EACH DAY WITH SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL
Every morning at 11:11AM, I send a poem — sometimes soft, sometimes devastating, always true.
💚 Subscribe now to read and breathe and feel along with me 💚
Poetry Anthologies by Britt Wolfe:
