I Miss You, That Is All

I miss your face, I miss your voice, I miss the way your calls made me rejoice. I remember I would laugh out loud with the sheer joy of communion with another, or perhaps I’m overthinking it all – as I do – it was just the absurdity of the ringtone I assigned your number: Ooh, you will be my man, and I will be your woman every day
The sheer silliness of it all: blame it on the oblongata.

I miss thinking of you at random times – well I still do but I miss doing so without hurt. Once, way back when, I cried over those final words so curt…I should have known you were too good to be true. That first day?- all I can muster toward it is rue.

I miss thinking of myself in relation to you and thinking of you in relation to me and pondering the difficulty of it all. Make no mistake though, I’m not here in a simplistic crawl: I’m just saying I miss you, that is all.



The Devil Is Real, I Met Him Once

The devil is real, I met him once.
Met him once; he killed me twice.
First with words rich and sweet
And then with syllables of ice.

The devil is real, I met him once.
Yes I said and so we danced.
Music soft and music loud;
It is true I was too entranced.

The devil is real, I met him once.
He was beautiful, he turned out deadly;
How soon the sweet melody soured
Despite how beautiful the first medley.

The devil is real, I met him once.
The farewell came, with it came the burn:
He was done, he was gone
But still I begged: one more turn.

The devil is real, I met him once.
He dealt me death not once but twice –
First with sweetness t’is no lie,
Second with daggers of ice.