What Comes After

I used to tie those laces.

Now they tie them themselves

and walk off the court

and I watch the dust settle

in all the empty spaces.

This is what I wanted—

the team, the scholarship, the moment

when they stop freezing up,

when they believe without my belief

to lean on.

So why am I falling?

Their shoulders don't sag anymore.

That happened when I wasn't looking,

or maybe I was looking

and just didn't want to see.

Now they move like they're sure,

and sure doesn't need me anymore.

The dust is still settling.

I should leave. I should feel

something like pride, something real,

something that makes sense

of this hollow thing opening inside.

Instead I'm still standing here,

still tied to someone

who's already disappeared,

watching the place where they were

getting smaller and smaller

until I can't tell if they're gone

or if I'm the one disappearing.