I thought I missed you,
But I didn't.
How do you recapture a moment?
In photographs we're frozen,
But all my sentiment has turned bitter.
Your hearts are calloused,
And mine is thoroughly bruised,
But my bruises keep on fading,
While you continue to tear at your skin,
Like flesh is a prison,
And like we're all souls of passion.
But I know passion,
And you only know lust.
That's why I don't miss you,
But I hope you know I wish I did.
