Hello.

S'been a while, huh?

I've been missing that,
Those letters you wrote,
The lipstick stains stretching across the paper.

Red was never your colour, love.

You'd never wear anything but black,
Unless they'd make a darker colour.

You and your punk rock.

It wouldn't be wrong to say I miss it.

But does missing you make a difference,
In you and I?

Do we change from who we are,
To miss the person we once had?

The light to our dark?

Does the coin suddenly have two sides,
When it's been polished again?

You never liked my cryptic words,
And I hated your honeyed poison.

But I could never turn away,
From the part of you,
That did not speak.

I could never stop looking,
At your black and blue,
At your simple formula,
At your sun-kissed smile,
Nor at your cut-up honour,
Your tragic vanity,
And your stomped-upon pride.

And you could not forget about my words,
Because even the ones you don't understand,
They ring true,
And they ring loud.

You do not lie in words,
But I live in words.