Wednesday, March 3, 2010

I Miss You

I miss you—
oh how I miss you.
Listening to songs
that used to make me cry—
because they reminded me of you.
Your photos in my house,
those blue eyes
tell a thousand stories
from a dozen picture frames.
Maybe we’re strangers again,
maybe we’ll start over,
but I can already feel
that you’re moving on again.
I never thought it would be like this,
so short,
I wanted forever,
but you knew it would never come.
I hate that you knew it.
I hate that I miss you.
Oh how I miss you.

1 comment:

  1. Miss Baley! I love that you are doing this. Of course the writer (and writing teacher) in me wants to say, revise, revise! and send them out! but, I think it's equally (perhaps more?) important to do the work for its own sake and to experience the joy of sharing it for your own reasons. Good for you!