she disappears, and they don’t notice at first, too caught up in the lasting persistence of life, too caught up in their pain and struggles to see hers- and she doesn’t blame them
daisy doesn’t blame them for not noticing, she doesn’t blame them for not seeing the way she only sits and watches them talk on those nights where the world isn’t in the middle ending- instead of actively participating
she doesn’t blame them for not noticing how she stops talking as much, how the absence of her laugh rings silently, imperceivably
she doesn’t blame them
lincoln’s death plays through her mind in an everlasting loop- a film played over and over again in the hopes that maybe one day she’ll wake up and the ending will have changed
it never does
daisy packs her bags because she knows she can’t stay any longer
daisy packs her bags because without him, nothing feels safe
daisy packs her bags because she can’t deal with the smiles and the comfort and the care that she knows she doesn’t deserve
daisy packs her bags and wonders if they’ll even notice her departure
daisy packs her bags and knows that they’ll notice a second too late
daisy packs her bags because the truth is, she was gone long before she left.