Sunday, August 9, 2015

Missing (Medley)

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Missing (Medley)


I. Should You Miss Me


Should you conclude, you miss me, and come around,
I'd likely ask you to corroborate, and expound.
As a general rule, what we had, I tend to re-live.

Still, I'd indubitably question if this is bona fide;
not to imply this is spurious. I can't say you ever lied.
If I appear nebulous, I don't know what I have to give.


Knowing you, as I do, I can't surmise you would waffle.
You are tentative, on your best days. I know the drill.
At this conjecture, I may not be so open to allegation.

To miss me at this stage, could be apocryphal or sincere;
a precarious situation, as I ask myself, why you are here,
and should I be equivocal, to the time you were the one?


II. Might I Miss You


If circumstances warrant, falling back into that phase,
tenable. Temporary break taken from a never ending maze,
like any good hamster, worth his oats, I miss the wheel.

Freestanding, I am prone to settle for low hanging fruit
from low end providers, (easily convinced to follow suit.)
Too rustic to be provincial, I turn and run... full heel.


Hovering, hesitant, viewing both ends of the spectrum,
conceding, my comfort zone was always, under your thumb.
Concealed among your travel luggage, along for the ride,

concomitant, eventual excess baggage, like a back order,
caught up in customs, dutiful, stranding still, boarder
placed to the side, no where to run and no where to hide.


III. Missing


The real truth be told, I am at fault for apprehension.
Coming unraveled at the seams, for me, is convention,
with no one here to talk to but myself. Time to disperse

nonsensical notions, unfounded, coveted by these voices,
in order to afford clear thought, to make better choices;
a mind uncluttered, in hopes of better as opposed to worse.


I miss you making hard line stands, then asking what I think;
how when you are feminine and clingy, takes me to the brink;
your sincere queries, mostly the one, "How've you been?"

I miss when you have blind faith in me, to persevere,
but little patience when I persist, with my way not clear.
Mostly, I miss the here and now, not being as it was then.


Michael Todd (2015)