I don't miss you
The way most people miss things.
It's not like I can get in my car and drive to you.
I can't say "draw me a map that leads me back to you"
Because honestly Dierks Bentley is right "I don't know where to go or what I'm suppose to do".
I want to see you, not your headstone.
I want to hold your hand.
But the closest I'll get to holding your hand
Is holding my own.
As I cry on my pillow
Wishing I wasn't alone.
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 2:16 AM UTC
I don't miss you
The way most people miss things.
It's not like I can get in my car and drive to you.
I can't say "draw me a map that leads me back to you"
Because honestly Dierks Bentley is right "I don't know where to go or what I'm suppose to do".
I want to see you, not your headstone.
I want to hold your hand.
But the closest I'll get to holding your hand
Is holding my own.
As I cry on my pillow
Wishing I wasn't alone.
Request permission to use this poem