I miss you.
I miss my missed chances.
I miss my missed calls when I could have heard your voice.

I miss missing you nearly in the hall
And catching a hint of your perfume.

I miss trying to stop missing you,
I miss failing.

I miss the kind of friendship so close
That the ache of missing more
Turned sweet and low like the music of a summer night.

I'm afraid that I'll be missing you even more than this
These next years,
And the ones after.

I'm scared that one day I'll miss you entirely,
And I'll have missed our golden days
In a dizzy haze
Of trying... not ever to have to miss you.

So I'll say it now instead:
I miss you.
I miss you.
I miss you.

And I guess that's just
How it is.