i miss you
even if you are just meter away
and i miss you more
when you will gone far
away

i miss the way you smile
that light up my way
and the way you laugh
at your childish play

i miss your giggle
that captivate me
and your smirk
that mesmerize me

i miss the way you frown
and the sweet scent that you own

i miss the way you walk
and your crazy little talk

i miss all about you
i miss you

Because

i can't have you

©IGMS 2014

The photos are frozen time.
Not just mine.
But yours.
Theirs.
All.

Once upon a time photos reflected exactly what they are.
Memories.

They were dull.
Colourless.
Unfocused.

But today they shine so bright.
Images reminding us each time we see them, how real things were.

How real we loved.
How real we cared.
How much we cried.
How much we laughed.
How much we miss.

They remind us vividly with their glow;
It all fades.

The laughter fades into the distance.
The tears fade into the atmosphere.
The caring fades to disregard.
This missing fades to hate.

And the love. Well it simply fades.

The simple way it always has.
The way you always remember.

The way in which your parents stop turning off your bedroom light.
The way in which a friend forgets to call.

The way in which your touch will fade.
The way in which I'll forget how soft your skin is.
The way in which you'll replace my warmth.

These four walls will become lonely again.
And I'll remember the one thing that never fades.

To be alone.
Just as the photographs I take.

Before this
There was infinity, reachable by tiny fingers
And wide eyes
Scraped knees and
Bobbing heads disappearing into the trees.
'Nilla wafers and nap time
Took us off through the wildest jungles
Sent you drifting with a patched eye across the ocean
With ol' blue beard

One day, stark as the contrast between warmth
And a dash of ice-water
Every illusion used to protect, to comfort
Became as crystal clear
As shattering windshield glass.

I remember that day
I remember the clutch of fabric in my small hands
The spicy, familiar scent as I pushed it into my face
Feeling no warmth behind it, no enclosure of arms
Only the carapace
Your long-sleeved second skins
That filled the rich mahogany dresser
Long after you departed with the last you'd ever wear.

Not touching the cold stranger in the box made it real;
Nor the sound of it's door as it closed.
No, not even the earth piled atop the pile of
Crushed roses
The stone bearing our names.

It was the sweet, lingering scent
The essence you left behind
That had already begun to fade;
The scent that was as unique as rain on fallen leaves
Would one day leave
Just as you did.