I realise I’m already there
I don’t want to love somebody
Only to have them leave
And to leave me
Missing their laughter at 4 a.m.
As I listen to their favourite songs because I can’t sleep,
Missing their eyes at 8 a.m.
As I stare down at my morning cup of tea the same brown as the two pools that used to stare back at me,
Missing their touch at 2 p.m.
As I pick up my pen to do paperwork but their fingers intertwined with mine more perfectly than my ballpoint,
Missing their scent at 9 p.m.
As I strip off my clothes and catch a whiff of my perfume that you used to say you liked,
Missing your love as long as I’m awake and dreaming of you whenever I’m not.