Where's my head at?

Somewhere around here:

The end was supposed to be comfortable,
Or at least, balanced.
When I go back, when you go on
it will all just disappear
like uncried tears.
I don't want to cry for this.
This wasn't born, this wasn't real.
This was the sun's shadow.
And I think of you in my shoulders
quick, explosive, blood aflutter.
Sit down, shut down.
It's over for my sake,
I'll punch the key.
Go about my life with your voice in my head,
try not to smile.
It's a fine thing, this end.