how do you miss the warmth

of an embrace which never belonged, of kisses left suspended in air, untouched, the ghost of your fingertips seemingly brushing against my cheek, only to realise that all that was left were my tears and i?

how do you miss the warmth, of friends who never stayed, drifting away and vanishing just as mist, figures barely holding its form before falling apart and breaking down, and when the sun shines once more all you find is the traces of a love no longer there, vaporised, lost?

how do you miss the warmth, of cold corridors only heated by the unfortunate warmth of your heart which still beats; throbbing from the fresh cuts of words needed to be said, of virgin romances and the consoling hand on your back as you wish for all to lay still as you drown in the midst of the raging, white guilt which courses through your veins, over something which could have been?

how do you miss the warmth of things not meant to be yours, hearts forever seeking out the allure of what you can never have in an eternal attempt to find worth in a bottomless void of emptiness, where right next to you could be the universe, hands outstretched, waiting for you.