Vol. 1, Issue 2, I Miss You

by ERA

How can I miss someone I've never met?
How can I long for arms that have never held me?
Weep to see eyes I've never looked into?
Crave a kiss I've never tasted?

But I do.

I wake up and I miss you,
I think of you like you're in my life
But every moment of every day
I feel a ripping
Like a bandaid that never quite comes off
But is always separating
Skin from skin
Body from body
Soul from soul.

We make love and I miss you,
Driven crazy for your touch
The loss slams into me
As deeply as the desire.
The way you'd touch me
The way you'd feel
The way you'd push me pull me use me worship me
It's never quite there
And on the cusp of ecstasy
I bite back cries of loss.
And in the moments after,
My joy is tempered with increasing pain.

I wait for you and I miss you
Because I don't even know where you are or what you're doing.
I didn't see you before and I won't see you after
It's a vanishing and reappearing act
But only in a mirror
And you cut in and out like a faulty ghost.
Even when you speak to me,
I intercept garbled transmissions of you talking to other people.
Attention divided,
And if it wasn't I wouldn't know.

I'm having fun and I miss you,
It's not exactly that I wish you were there, but I think of you every second.
I perform for you though you don't exist.
I do everything to retell it to you
I check my phone, I feel guilt for not being there for you.
If you're waiting, my body tries to divide itself to be with you.

I'm making love to another and I think of you.
I turn my back to them so that I can pretend it is you
But it's never a convincing act.
When I cry out, it is with unmet desire, sadness and guilt.
Every second is a comparison
In which they fall short of being you:
The perfect lover who's never touched me.

The day is ending and I miss you
Hours that were once a relaxing unspooling of the day
Time spent with the one I love
Are now tense, empty underlines for me. They break when I check my phone for messages.
Nothing from you leaves me feeling alone.
Something from you makes me feel high and suppressive.
Either way, I'm a telegraph with nothing to say and nowhere to go, always sending.

I'm in another's embrace and I think of you.
No, I'm in the embrace because I'm thinking of you.
I want to go to sleep with arms around me
Though they can't be yours
I'm being comforted by someone who doesn't know I'm grieving
I wonder if you do the same
Or if you forget me when you touch her.
I wonder who you turn to when I'm gone
And how often
And if I'm any better
Like my suffering makes me pure
Like me missing you makes me any more faithful to you.
Faithful to you are not words I should ever think.
I cannot be yours you cannot be mine
And the people to whom we are
Are not even the reason why.

I'm falling asleep and I miss you
Debate sending last thoughts or not
Struggle not to check and check and check my phone
Force myself not to think about your long hours, alone or not
And which are worse
And what you do with those hours.
Who is lucky enough to spend them with you
Do they know they are? They can't possibly
I am jealous of their imperfect knowledge, anyway.

I'm sleeping and I miss you
Like my every dream is shared
Though you're not often in them, I know they're waves being sent out at you
I wake up between each dream
And I miss you,
Oh do I miss you
I feel you close
Or is it very far
It's both
And that's what makes me miss you the most.

So I wake up and I miss you
It's hours before you're up
I want you now
But I think about you sleeping,
About you feeling peace,
And for once I'm not thinking about me
For once I'm hoping you sleep well.
But I don't know the moment you wake up
The time that passes between that and you reaching for me
Or what's on your mind
I can't see those groggy morning moments
When I want most to take care of you
And when you check your phone
I don't know what it is you're hoping you'll see from me.
Probably not all the "I miss you's" I've racked up
Since I first met you.


I go by the pseudonym ERA. I choose to remain nameless so that I can tell the truth. These words we don't speak stick up our tongue and these secrets we don't share make islands of us all. I write to reach out. 

Twitter:  twitter.com/ERAscible