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,
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.