I want you to know,
Oh, I wish you knew,

That I still miss that smile,
I still miss you.

I still miss your touch,
I really miss your kiss.

I miss your hands holding mine,
And that feeling of bliss.

I miss your laugh,
I miss your look,

I miss the drawings you did
In that old beat-up sketchbook.

I miss the Tuesdays,
I miss the Sundays,

I miss the good morning texts,
Except for on Mondays.

I miss the alley,
And the field below.

I even miss your annoying brother,
And your black lab, Shadow.

I miss you and,
I wish you were still here.

But what I miss the most is
When you still held me near.

I won't tell them how much it affects me.
I won't tell them about every night I spent crying,
I won't tell them how much pain I really feel.
I'll just keep on acting like this is no big deal,
Like I'm fine and that you were just a good memory.
But at the end of the day,
My pillow is soaked,
My eyes are puffy and red.
I have to muffle my sobs for fear of someone hearing.
And when I'm calm, I lose myself to unconsciousness.

But regardless of how much I hate doing it,
And how much I want to tell them,
I know that in a few hours' time I'll be back at it:
Rereading our messages,
Recreating our phone calls in my head,
Remembering every kiss we shared.

And I'll still won't tell them.

Now that I have the time
Perhaps I will find the rhyme,
Or maybe I will sit and think
With my cold hands and drink,
Possibly I'll fall asleep
Then maybe I won't have to weep.
Then again I may just cry,
And I know I won't have any clue why,
But that doesn't mean a thing,
Just like when I wore that ring.

There never will be a day
When I don't wish you'd come my way,
And I'll never have an hour
When I am the one with power.
I wield,
Then yield,
Because I see your face
Invading my space
And I think to myself
How insane, I need help.
Is anyone out there?
Does anyone care?

I may soon forget the name and the face,
I may even forget the existence,
But I will never,
I can never,
Forget the stormy-blue sky
That resides in your eyes.

They are loverlike,
And I know they don't try.

But every fiber of my being
Sees them as they are,

And before I know it,  I cry.