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