A weekday noon and I'm missing you. Sipping my coffee I can feel the bitter cocoa beans. The start of the week, the same mundane. People chattering around, speaking things they don't mean. Feet rushing in the crowd. Vehicles honking. The world seems to be rushing past me. I try to rub you off my glasses. You've been sitting there like a scratch. Blurring my vision, tainting everything. I hate the way I miss you. Like I have nothing else to do. Files, documents, parties, conversations... You don't spare me anywhere. Get off my head. I'm trying to move ahead. Why do I miss you the way I do. I ask myself every night. And keep banging my head on the pillow, until I succumb to the memories running in a loop on my mind.