I know I shouldn't miss you;

Just something I've been working on.

I know I shouldn’t miss you;

The fading scrapes and yellowing bruises are proof.

The many wasted nights (too many, really)

Of tears cascading down my purple cheeks,

Out of swollen, bloodshot eyes,

All over my contradicting fears,

Fears of both you and losing you.

I know I shouldn’t miss you;

The many bad habits I picked up are proof.

The everlasting tint of tobacco in my life,

My car, my clothes, my breath

The singed holes in our couch

(Oops, I meant my. I forgot; no more our.)

I know I shouldn’t miss you;

But the things I shouldn’t miss, I don’t.

I miss the things that made me fall in the first place.

The way my heart feels so empty is proof.

The sharp angles in your face, or

The lit cigarette dangling from the corner of your mouth.

 

I know I shouldn’t miss you;

But, dear God, I do.

Author's Note

I was trying to keep a rhythm. I'm not sure, though... did it flow well?

Reviews

[Anita Singh]

I liked the rhyming in the poem. Some hints of sarcasm in between, like: "many wasted nights (too many, really)" and "Oops, I meant my. I forgot; no more our." I like that. You pay attention to the details like sharp angles in your face and lit cigarette dangling. Nice work!