They don't talk anymore.
But once,
they scrolled back.
Old messages.
Pixel ghosts.
Tiny fingerprints of a time
that almost meant something.

The first night.
Discord cameras on.
She yawning into the mic.
Him not yawning at all.

The otter facts.
Pockets in armpits.
Holding hands so they don't float away.
He never said it,
but that was the closest
he came to confessing.

The trash talk.
Soup as hot juice.
Socks in sinks.
Jokes sharp enough to cut,
soft enough to hide the scars.

The walls.
Her "how's ur day?"
His silence.
Seen.
Always seen.
Never heard.

And the last one.
"I miss you."
Drunk, raw.
A message that trembled.
Answered with a single "?"
Buried with a single "nvm."

They scrolled.
They stopped.
They looked one last time.
Not deleted.
Not forgiven.
Not explained.

Then buried it.
For once.
For forever.