My Achilles Heel, how does it feel
to watch me fall once more?
you never would have wanted to haunt me
and yet, I see you around every corner,
I see you in every mirror, every shop window,
in my dreams and waking nightmares.

I see you in the stars, shining down at me,
and in the steam coming from my coffee,
curling lazily into a heart.
I hear you in the wind, and the rain, and the music I write.
I hear you in the laughter. I hear you in the silence.
I See You, and I Hear You, and I Feel You Always.

in French, you don't say 'I miss you'.
rather, 'you are missing from me'.
and, well, I'm not sure what else I could say
except
I feel you in the very marrow of my bones
and I feel your absence within my soul.
you are missing from me.

and when I kissed you
that fateful day, with hope in my eyes,
you tasted like the icy winter's morning
and buttered toast.
neither of us knew it would be the last time,
or knew that you would become
naught more than a memory to others.

naught more than everything to me.