I miss you all the time
I wish you were here, though i cannot imagine
past the fulfilment of that one wish
I drop references of you into disconnected conversations
the way one drops names of famous people one knows,
nonchalantly on purpose, like secrets that beg to be told
I think of you every second second
in spurts and shocks and spite
(in spite)
of all better judgement
I hold long discussions with you in my head
where I say all the things I wish I could think of
when you were around, when people heard me
I wait with busy signals and pointed status messages
all for you, only for you
and I forgive you when you never notice
I write you letters pages long in my imagination
and then tear them up because
they all end up making uncomfortable admissions
that I am not sure i believe...or want to
I've been here before
will I survive another one?
