I can tell.
Since I left I can tell you're not okay.
You shrug your shoulders and laugh,
"I don't care"
But I can tell.
I know you like the back of your hand.
The hand I let go because I thought it was for the best.
But I miss the way it felt in mine and I can tell you do to.
I can tell by your long hair and the watch you no longer wear because I was the one that picked it out.
I can tell you miss me like I miss you but maybe it's a different kind of miss.
I can tell we aren't done for good in the way you lock eyes with me every time I pass because your eyes say a million different things to me.
Because I can always tell.
