Name:

Notepad

October 28th, 2005

A different kind of missing

I miss the mornings with a call to say hello
or your sweet face just across the pillow

I miss the afternoon when just the simple words you'd say
could settle the doom and gloom of another hectic day

But there was a different kind of missing even when I had all those things
finding where and why "we" left us is as hard as finding where "we" begins

So go out now and find your way
And maybe someday

You'll be back in these arms with a sense of where you belong
Less doubt than you have now, and a bit more know how
maybe someday

I miss a dinner table set for two
and a meal made by the skilled hands of you

I miss the answers when the room fills with doubt
that one of us would find when the other couldn't

I miss the feel of a kiss on my lips
and how strong the touch of just one fingertip

I miss the feeling you feel when you're doing it right
how the darker my days the brighter your light

I miss how you'd squirm when I tickled your feet
or that comfort I'd feel while watching you sleep

But there's a different kind of missing among all of our things
it's the skill not to lose the reasons why "we" begins

So go out now and find your way
And maybe someday

You'll be back in these arms with a sense of where you belong
Less doubt than you have now, and a bit more know how
maybe someday
You'll be living a life far faraway, one that has nothing to do with me
maybe someday


where love ends is the same place it begins