Don't say goodbye

You left your key beside the bowl, A little brass comma ending us. I kept the house the way you knew, Then moved the chair that faced the door. Now every room can hold its shape without Your coat across the frame. I don’t keep a place for you. I don’t leave the hallway light. What we had can stay in the past, I can sleep alone tonight. I don’t keep a place for you. That’s the first thing I chose right. Your note was folded into thirds, Still crisp beneath the kitchen glass. I read it once, then let it be— A thing that happened, not a map. The morning came without a sign. I made my coffee, took my time. I don’t keep a place for you. I don’t leave the hallway light. What we had can stay in the past, I can sleep alone tonight. I don’t keep a place for you. That’s the first thing I chose right. No grand goodbye, no borrowed blame, Just my own name back in my mouth. I turn the key, I close the door, And hear the quiet settling down. I don’t keep a place for you. I don’t leave the hallway light. What we had can stay in the past, I can sleep alone tonight. I don’t keep a place for you. That’s the first thing I chose right. The chair is turned toward the window. The room is mine again.