Friday, 20 January 2012


I miss you, my lost love.
As I lie on my bed casually smoking a cigarette.
I remember smoking with you,
wrapped in your arms.
How the smoke twisted and curled around us.
The computer beckoned,
but you stayed with me.
Your body not as toned as I had expected,
when I unwrapped you.
But you were still the perfect person for me.
Arrogant and snide, uncaring and cold,
but tender and broken up inside.
You were a man who knew me.
The horrible evil inside but didn’t care.
Who liked every edge I owned.

I miss you, my lost love.
For how your fingers drew beauty,
onto thick lined paper in Classics.
How you’d sit across from me and pass me notes.
Laughing together under the scrutiny of all.
I miss having lunch with you in empty classrooms.
Kissing you with the blinds down.
Tearing into you and pretending I didn’t want to.
Failing miserably at being aloof as I was one to do.
As you watched for the little movements,
that made you know I wanted you.
Then embarrassing me by predicting my next move.
We played that game everyday,
and it never once got boring.

I miss you, my lost love.
You didn’t love me but I ruined my chance,
to be part of your life at all.
I got jealous for the first time and it all came crashing down.
You are hurting me still,
wherever you are.
You’ve barely spoken to me in so long.
I want so much to talk to you
I want so much to see you again
But I can not fix this
You don’t want me to.

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