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Rated: E · Poetry · Drama · #1321327
Do you ever really miss something?
Before it has started
I put an end to your day
Sorry to put the sky in your face
But I want to know
In clouds and breezes
In haunted leaves that blow

“How I miss you now,”
Said my brain to my hand
Spelled out by the cold
That stuffs both of our heads

“Though you never left,”
I could whisper across songs
Played to no one
Except the ghosts of my words
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1321327-Pt-4