Mad Girl on the Loose

I know it’s too late and probably cruel for me to say, when both you and I know we will always be just a victim of each other’s regrets – how you came after me and all I ever did was run, my lack of interests and tiptoed ramblings, the hopeful glint in your eyes and far much worse, how you loved me like a madman.

And of how much of a madman you are I was your mad girl; but not on the loose. And here I am, speaking these words I have well concealed since last November and the words you have longed since the first of June – I miss you in the ways I feel like i’m haunted.

And how cruel it is for me to say that when you’re probably learning how to play your Saxophone for the hundredth time because I have taken all away the music in you. But please, let me be cruel for one last time and let me tell you – how much I miss your voice,

the way you whisper in my ear,

and how you tell me you have no fear,

that you will love me in all passing days,

– even without the sunshine rays.

I miss you when he forgets to fold the duvets,

and i’ll see your skin ghosting over the creases.

I miss you in the break of dawn,

when light seeps through my windowsill

and i’ll see him sleeping still

but i’ll feel you

– your breath on my skin.

I miss you in my morning coffee,

when he forgets to put three lumps of sugar and milk,

and now it matches your eyes, i sip.

I miss you when he sings to me,

and his voice will never be enough

nor anyone’s actually

– and they will always have you to compete.

I miss you and it’s devouring me,

haunting me,

and i’ve lost my last strand of sanity.

I am a mad girl

now on the loose

waiting for my madman

because I love you.

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