It's not much of the
missed calls and unanswered messages.

It's just that at 7am,
when the birds sung,
it was almost as if they were mimicking your voice.

At 3pm,
I was searching for your face
in the oceans of people.

And finally at 2am,
instead of drifting to sleep,
my mind drifts back to you.

Then I thought,
missing you is the most divine way of obliteration.