Missing You

Missing you comes in waves.

First it is the little things.

Your jokes, your laughter, the twinkle in your eye,

the smile you give me before saying goodnight.

They are gentle laps of water at the shore,

leaving me wanting, yearning for more.

But then, the longing grows.

I remember whispered conversations behind closed doors,

and fleeting glances from across the dance floor.

The sea is no longer calm and at peace;

instead it whirls and churns, the waves threatening to consume me.

Now I gasp for air, as it all becomes too much.

I feel the ghost of your touch, and electricity dances across my skin,

causing what-ifs and what-could-have-beens to make my head spin.

They are tsunami waves now, rising high,

and I am drowning, in the remains of goodbye.