I do not miss you with the emotions,
reserved for feelings of despair,
which stem from absence.
For the tearing of my heart is much more than a feeling
that can be scrawled across a universal greeting card,
or a get well soon wish that is spoken out of routine.
I can not find sanction in empty words,
that come so close to defining
the effect your absence has upon me;
yet already stretched thin,
they are used up before reaching their full potential.
Should I speak of how I miss you,
the phrases uttered would not do you justice.
And if I could ever find a way to form this emotion into words,
I would leave it unspoken,
pure and unfiltered,
so not to dilute its meaning
with the muddled language by which I am chained.
So when asked if I miss you,
I can truthfully reply no.