When every cell of my body wants to be done with it

I miss you

a word, a feeling, that experience and use sparingly

but about you, it’s clear

A feeling slowly emerges  and I soon recognize it

Like a cactus in the desert misses the rain

It’s not like you watered me, or fed me.

Like he did.

It’s not like I drank from your hands

the way dry roots soak up from the ground

the ways his were a fountain for me

It’s not like I found myself in you.

I did, however, remember who I was

the same way I did at the touch of the fountain’s outpour

his words, perfectly coincided with our night during the rain

and all truth came to me as my roots soaked up his magic

and yet, I find myself missing you

the door step fairy tale, haunting my afternoons

my evenings, my eyes glance upwards

my heart races a little

everytime I make my way up

expecting to find you there

my heart sinks

and twice, right doorstep, wrong man

only left me believing even more

and with the fall rain, I can’t help but feel my roots open

and I think of the teddybear

I think of you, there, day in day in out, the way you know how to be, for me

I tell my cells not to feel, I tell them not to

but I miss you