And at times, I miss you.
I miss how we stumble out of clubs,
Young, intoxicated, and didn’t give a fuck.
I miss the way you say goodbye.
I saw from your eyes,
I know sometimes you lie.
You’ve always fancied me,
You’ve always thought about kissing me.
I feigned ignorance,
I wanted to see your persistence.
You said to me you’re always honest,
But no —
Just this one,
You never would want bluntness.
Sometimes you held my hand,
And I know you wanted to hug.
I could hear you resisting your heart,
I wished you went with your gut.
There were many things strangely accurate.
You were right about me,
But never believed in us.
The number of times —
I bit my lips wishing
Instead it was yours.
The number of times —
You held me up,
Instead of holding me close.
Each time we denied our hearts
From every chance of never being apart.
And still sometimes, I miss you so so much.
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