I Swear, I Just Miss You
Three years have dragged by since
I first saw you and we met eyes
and I swear my first thought
after I saw you walk into the room
was words that are whispered into
the etches of my heart that sealed
up like an envelope being sent to
another country.
Because you were another country,
another undiscovered gem from the
rubble and if nobody thought you were
beautiful before I did, then they are
wrong, even more wrong than when I
thought Waffle House was a gross restaurant
because underneath bad intentions and horrible timing
lies a good reason to fall in love.
I don’t remember much of our first conversation
but I think we talked about music, and my God,
your voice was music, it was loud and swelling
and powerful and shook the world to its core,
or at least the world I lived in,
and I swore to myself I would love you
regardless of what you feel for me.
And so I did, and it was probably a mistake,
but how could I not when your hair, your long,
beautiful hair fell over your eyes and i would fix it
so I could stare into your soul that was a prism in me,
reflecting the different spectrums of feelings and colors
that I had never saw before, but you made them crystal clear.
The last night, we said goodbye four times
and each time I felt everything falling into place
and falling apart at the same time.
It’s like gluing a puzzle together
but the sides refuse to fit.
Maybe we didn’t belong together,
but explain the electricity
that passed between our fingers,
or the way your eyes followed me out,
when I made the decision to leave.