Desirable Ideas

I miss writing and I miss the silence.
I miss the tears of a broken violence.
I miss the grievance of a partner's reply.
I miss the solitude of focused compliance.
I miss the surprise and I miss the days
when my thoughts were heavy on each page.
I miss the darkness and I miss the balance
of my broken heart graced with madness.

I miss to suffice.

I miss the lone
long
quiver
of a solid profound line.
I miss the absorption of the tune of the world.
I miss twas and henceforth the blow
and I miss what it feels like to grow...
To grow through words
To grow through thoughts
To grow through the experiences
Of feeling lonely and lost.

I'm an addict unsure of a sober well being.
I'm a narcissist feigning
for a hollow fix
drowning in egotism
lacking the meaning
of a solemn bliss.

But more than anything,
you are what I miss.
Above it all,
I long for the intoxication of your kiss.