I say I miss you
But do I really?
Yes.
Yes I do.
I miss what you were
Not what you came to be.
I miss the laughter.
The memories.
The individuality.
Now all you are
Are stories.
Myths.
Tales of what you used to be.
You're lies.
Sometimes.
You're fun.
Sometimes.
You're there.
Sometimes.
Just like me.
I miss you.
The real you.
The you you used to be.
The stories are painful.
The lies hurt.
The memories stand in time.
Unchanging.
But that's all they are --
Memories,
Tales of what used to be.
I miss you.
I really do.
But at the same time
I think:
Which do I miss more
You?
Or the you you used to be?
This does NOT in any way mean I am not a Hanson fan!!!
I was in a mood.
As you can tell from other poems
I switch from the "I believe in myself" mood
to an "I am a nobody" mood, just like everyone else.