She texted: “We need to talk.”

He sighed. Not again. They met over coffee.

Her eyes were tired.

His smile was forced.

They spoke in loops—same wounds, same words, like a playlist on repeat.

Neither shouted. Neither sobbed.

They weren’t angry anymore. Just... used up.

“I don’t think I can fix us anymore,” she said softly.

He nodded. No resistance.

They hugged like coworkers at the end of a long shift.

Love didn’t explode.

It dimmed, quietly.

Burned out like a phone left on all night—

Too many apps, too little charge,

And no one remembered to plug it in