At All

A poem of the broken-hearted type

I think of you
Not occasionally but often
And occasionally I wish
That I didn't think of you
At all.
Wish I didn't want to see you
Wish I didn't want you to call
Wish I didn't miss your touch
Wish you weren't my wanderwall.
But you are and I do.
I miss everything about you.
Talking for an hour or two
Touching for a night or a few.
Everything I said was true.
And it's true,
That I wish I didn't miss you
At all.

Author's Note

It's been a long while since I've been here to share but thank you to anyone who gave time to read this..appreciate it sincerely..Tara