Poetry

I have missed you many times

I still have the occasional slip

Though I’m beginning to believe that there is not much left to miss.

When I miss you, I miss stars and smoke and parks at 2 AM

I’ve come to know that these things will not be the same again.

When I left you, you were sad and sore and crippled in the heart

It wasn’t your mum's genes, though you would always say it was.

You’d been through a lot, young love, and I don’t blame you for breaking

But we have grown in odd directions, found solace in different things.

I don’t think that I am better, smarter, more tuned in than you

In fact if I had the means, I’d likely be where you are too

But I’m glad I don’t, because you see, as much as I love you

It was disappointing to return and see where you’d gone to.

I know you used to think, you’d rarely talk, but friend, I knew

I don’t think you think of much now but your next high and your ‘crew.’

You got sick and even sicker ‘cause you didn’t want to stop'

And then you laughed about it

It makes everything else better, does it not?

You’re not sick like that anymore.

I think you might be if you stopped.

And so I can’t decide which I prefer

Losing you to what seems to be your only aid, your only friend

Or watching you get worse again.

I used to be your only friend.

So yes, I have missed you many times

Sometimes I still do

I don’t resent you anymore though

And I think I’ve paid my dues.