Do You Miss Her Yet?
My mind can’t help but worry why you’ve been
silent this weekend.
Why you didn’t want to see me, when I asked you
to date me or come home.
Do you miss her yet?
Do you miss your inside jokes with her?
The way you both laughed at things I would never understand?
Do you miss the electricity she ignited through your veins?
Was I ever a spark, or just the outlet you grounded yourself in?
Do you miss the love-bomb texts that made your phone light up like fireworks?
The 81 missed calls in four hours
Was that chaos comforting, somehow?
Did it make you feel wanted? 
Do you miss her blonde hair?
Her thin body?
Her wild smile that didn’t carry the weight of the
life we built or the debt were in? 
Do you miss the sex talk?
Do you miss the way she made you feel reckless?
Do you miss talking about being hopelessly lost together? 
Will the ocean always remind you of her now?

I wonder if you ache for her in the quiet.
I wonder if being back with me feels like settling
into stillness after a storm you secretly crave.
Is it hard for you now, not having that chaos?
Is it hard to be with someone who sees you instead of devours you?
Will I ever be enough to fill the void she left behind?
Or am I just the safe place you retreat to when the fire burns too hot?
Because some days,
I can’t tell
if you’re trying to love me,
or just trying to forget her.








