After It Was Done

After It Was Done

It didn’t end with anything clear,

No final word to mark the line,

Just smaller shifts that gathered up,

And changed the shape of what was mine.

You stopped appearing in my thoughts,

In ways that once had come with ease,

And slowly, without being told,

Your name moved further from the keys.

The places that we used to share,

Felt slightly altered when I passed,

Not broken, not completely gone,

Just different from what used to last.

I tried to trace the point it changed,

To find the moment it began,

Yet all I found were scattered parts,

That never formed a single plan.

It’s strange how endings tend to work,

Not loud, not sudden, not defined,

Just quiet movements over time,

That leave a different state of mind.

There’s no one there to take the blame,

No simple cause to hold in place,

Just life adjusting as it does,

Without a need to show its face.

And in that space where it once stood,

There’s not a gap, not something wrong,

Just room that feels unfamiliar,

Where something used to belong.

You carry on as people do,

No pause, no break, no grand display,

Just living through the steady shift,

Of something slowly moving away.

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