Oh , I feel I miss you
But is it you whom I miss?
Or is it those talkative eyes
Or those unrealised lies
Are they even these
Or is it our lives ;
That I miss?
Or your touch unfelt; yet as cold as ice?
Or the endless unperceived sighs;
Or just those eyes' lights
What is it that  I miss
But it's perhaps surely not you.
Because this doesn't give me a fright.
It's not you .
It's not you, I don't want it be you .