Missing you has become a part of me. I actively miss you, I think of you every day. But there is not something missing inside me, not an emptiness in my heart. I, very simply, just miss you.
I live fully and completely inside your absence. It is not sadness, I do not feel broken or damaged. Missing you is in between the cells in my skin, it is in my blood and saliva and I can feel it, taste it; it is in my heart and brain and bones and lungs.
You are not a single person. You are a handful of carefully selected thoughts.
You are not dead, but I will wonder every day if you are alive. I probably always will. Sing, Night Owl, sing. I feel you in my chest. I have shallow breaths when I think of you, I am swimming in the lake at night again.
You have not changed and I will never see you again. I didn't ask for it to be this way. Run away, Tough Guys, run away. I feel you most in my skin. I become hot and red and never want to feel that way again. I do not want you back in my life. I do not want to miss you. I do not try to miss you.
You are dead, but you come back to me. Lost poems in text messages, old articles in new newspapers, your smile in a picture taken yesterday. Sleep, Sad Woman, sleep. I feel you most in my fingers, you buzz and you creep out through my fingertips when I least expect it.
You always remind me that the world is full of passion, even when all I've got is old ticket stubs and letters to jog my memory. Dream, Beautiful, dream. I feel you in my head, words and poems humming to me like a city. I get dizzy and hope that I can keep this high with me forever.
Now that you're gone, you have become a part of me.
