The Things I Miss

I kind of miss my cigarettes
Like I miss my youth
I miss the ideas of dreams
Like holding onto something
I kind of miss watching records turn
Like eating food in bed
Like watching cartoons with no shirt on
And I miss the idea of time
I really miss you looking out for me
Getting drunk and cooking eggs
I miss the ideas of your art on my walls
Like the scrawls of a likeable Warhol
I miss being out in the trees
Collecting their leaves and noticing patterns
Watching the birds fly in their freedom
I miss knowing that feeling
I miss the wry wit of your sentences
Your humour, flat and dry like a desert horizon
I miss thinking one day you will sing for my band
All those concerts I will never see, all that excitement
I miss that moment when the lights go out
That moment when you jump the border
I miss the thrill of singing along
I miss talking late into the night
To all the old friends
Who wont be here forever
Like myself...
I miss laughing with them and getting drunk with them
Falling away into dawn with them
Finding the future with them
But out of everything
The thing I miss most
I would have to say
Are my cigarettes...




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