Jocelyn K's poem is built from a string of short lines that all begin the same way: "The person." That repetition makes it feel like the speaker is circling one memory, unable to name the person directly, as if saying a name would hurt too much. We never learn who it is, or why things changed.
What we do learn is how much has been lost. Early lines describe someone who laughed, held hands, and liked the speaker for who they were. Then the details shift to someone the speaker "barely" sees, who "doesn't talk much" anymore. The person seems to be still around, just out of reach, which can be its own kind of grief.
The ending turns inward. "Torn and hurt / Alone and left" are blunt, simple words, and the last line leaves the speaker facing an uncertain future. The mood is quiet, sad, and a little stuck, like someone replaying the past because they don't know what comes next.