Thursday, March 6, 2014

I miss you, friend.

I miss those late nights
in your parents kitchen -
trying to solve the world's problems
and not noticing the new ones
we'd brew, staying up till four am.

I miss asking questions
in your parents kitchen -
being questioned by you
and being strained and grated
while philosophizing about truth.

I miss laughing without care
in your parents kitchen -
wondering if the midnight
ice cream sundae you'd make so methodically
would help us feel better about our mistakes.

I miss seeing your name
flash on my phone
and yelling maaaaak
with the comfort and safety
of knowing I was home.

I miss talking about life
and I miss little things
I miss your voice
I know you're there - somewhere
but my phone never rings.

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