“Hard to Forget Your Curls”
It’s hard to forget your curls,
how they carried sunlight like secrets,
how each strand had its own rhythm,
dancing free, yet always finding its way to me.
You were a storm and a calm,
the echo I still listen for when the night grows quiet.
We didn’t fall apart because love faded,
it was distance, old wounds,
and silence that spoke too loud.
Still, when I close my eyes,
I feel your warmth move through me,
like a song that never ends,
a prayer I keep whispering to the stars.
I’ve tried to let go,
but love isn’t something you turn off,
it lingers… it transforms… it teaches.
And maybe this is what love really is,
the space between holding on and letting go,
where forgiveness blooms in the dark.
Your curls, your voice, your light,
they visit me in dreams,
reminding me that some souls
aren’t meant to be forgotten,
only remembered with peace.
If the universe ever brings us back
to the same still moment,
I’ll meet you there,
with gentler hands,
and a heart that finally understands.
@---->---
In my weary old mind,
in a very old house.
What will I see or find?
Running around a mouse,
ghosts of the past and spouse.
Cobwebs blow in the wind.
I don't know if there's a heaven,
not in the way they say.
Golden gates, bright lights,
or even a list of who gets to stay.
But I know I miss you,
I know how much I love you.
I know a bond as strong as ours
can't possibly just disappear.
Maybe there really is an after,
and it's a beautiful place beyond this pain.
But sometimes when it's quiet,
I swear I hear you calling out my name.
Maybe it's a memory,
It could be just a trick of the mind.
Or maybe it's a soul deep wanting
for that eternity, not of our time.
They say I'm not meant to know the answers,
just follow the rules and his plan.
But honestly, the mom inside of me needs to believe,
I'll see your face again.
So I'll live here in the maybe,
In this painful, aching, empty space.
Not sure of a heaven,
But holding on to the hope
we’ll be together once more someday.
And maybe.. just maybe...
that’s enough for me right now.
Colours Woven In The Wild
Up in the mountains, our place so warm,
Pine trees standing guard against the chill of the night,
We'd wake to the mist, safe from any storm,
Your hand in mine, chasing the first morning light.
Down by the sea, at your wave kissed door,
Salt on our lips, barefoot on golden sand,
We'd chase the horizon, hearts wanting more,
Your laugh like the tide, pulling me to your land.
Twin outfits gleaming, in blues or in greens,
Matching our steps, like shadows in play,
We'd twirl in the sun, lost in joyful scenes,
Two halves of a whole, in the bright of the day.
Your flat white with almond, creamy and sweet,
My espresso double, strong as my need,
Sipped side by side, where our worlds would meet,
In those quiet moments, planting loves seed.
Now mountains feel empty, the sea sings alone,
No twin by my side, no colors to share.
I miss how we blended, how our spirits had grown,
Come back to these places, lets breathe that rare air.
Though distance may pull us, our bond holds the key,
In memories glow, youre forever with me.
@----->-----
Winter takes in its arms weeping stars as dawn draws in.
The sky turned from black to a steel gray;
Snow rested upon the rooftops and yards.
Revealing the ingrained beauty of the coverlet.
I walk the halls naked in the depth of despair.
And death; deep darkness devours me until I am hollow.
My mind spins to inner depths, lost in sorrow.
I pine and die each time inside. Looking for comfort,
But you are not around.
With winter outside, my heart weeps like a child.
I sometimes sit on a small patch of grass
In peace and quiet serenity
Overlooking a small pond with pine trees
And pinecones strung around the ground
As birds flit from one headstone to the next.
The speckled granite stone stands tall among so many.
Engraved with a Celtic cross with the words
"Loving Husband, Father, and Grandfather."
Leaving with a prayer.
Wishing that you were here.
Once your hands touched my face,
And with your eyes you said, "I do."
That Christmas day forty-five years ago
Now just a fading memory.
Your light grows dim, and I have inherited the pain.
I try to smile;
But then I sigh.
Feeling sorrow for a while;
And so I cry.
Is this for real;
Or is it just a dream?
Starting in April;
I talk to you in a frame.
I am in pain;
I feel so lost.
From deep within;
Slap by the truth.
Now you are gone;
Of course I know.
My mother, my supermom;
So hard to live without you.
Your unconditional love;
And all the memories.
That very tight hug;
And those sweet kisses.
I will miss you, my mother;
Your presence and your caress.
Losing you is what I fear;
But you're now resting in peace.
songer.co/song/g9i13kvktuxlhrn3fy5r2bqi
Verse 1
I told myself you were background noise.
Just traffic through the blinds.
But I still pause the song when your name fits the melody —
like the air’s in on something I’m not supposed to feel.
I leave the lamp on. Not for light,
but because the dark remembers you too well.
Pre-Chorus
You said, “You’ll call when it doesn’t hurt.”
I laughed — I said I never do.
Now every ring sounds like a dare.
Chorus
I don’t miss you.
Except always.
Except in the mirror,
in the hallway,
in that half-second before sleep where I fall toward you —
then stop myself,
pretend I’m dreaming of the weather.
Verse 2
You left your scent on my winter coat.
It bloomed again in July.
I told my friends I washed it out,
but I still wear it when I want to feel alive enough to lie.
Bridge
What if I said I never stopped hearing you breathe?
That I keep talking over silence just to drown it?
That I’ve built my calm around pretending?
Final Chorus
I don’t miss you.
Except always.
Except when I’m fine,
especially when I’m fine.
You’re the note that never fades —
and I keep telling everyone
it’s just feedback.
Sunless morning milky skies
I can’t hear the birds
They have flown without goodbyes
To the better worlds
Outside it’s very quiet
Just like by remote
Sounds come when off I stride
Up and down the road
With a bag full I return
From the morning gloom
I’m a guest here on my own
In the sitting room
Would you come to visit me
Even as a ghost?
Shall we drink the airy tea
That you like the most?
Come in any shape or form
Come like self-deceit
You’re most welcome, it’s your home
Yours is the best seat.
A soft whisper in the rustling of leaves seems like a breath of sigh.
Accustomed to the loneliness of the past, bereft of company, you waited.
As streams of light filter through the loving greens, making way for the moon---
I gather delight in the dunes of time, when your motherly touch was all that I sensed.
I savoured the magic your hands wove, the delicacies, the fashion, asking for more.
You listened with patience all that I said, yet failed to hold it when I had to spare
some time when you were ill, and your body begged my touch in all its might.
I pick up the petals of wounded time, imploring Providence to once more bring
Back a call unheard, a request refused, an outburst ignored, a demand denied.
Before I die, let me whisper in the anticipation of a meeting; ‘Mother, please forgive me’.
**********************************
I heard the strum of a guitar today
thought of you, it made my eyes well up
why did I leave? What was I thinking?
Was I out of meds? I dare not replay my exit
I fear I was cruel, my words harsh and mean.
We had such a marvelous time together those first years
But I felt stale, moldy, dank, damp, disrespected
It is wimpy to say “it was not you, it was me”
But I believe it was
Not sure if you were real now, or an illusion.
Remember the race to the thirteenth floor on the North Building?
I could barely stand up, and you were still sprinting
Your face was precious.
You had such a lovely ambiance that day
I fell in love with the idea of falling in love
Today I saw a tiny toddler in a pink dress
She reminded me of our plans to have a family
I wonder if you will find the love of your life and follow through?
I was not that person
I believe you know that now. I hope you do.
Please feel safe with me
I'll fall on that sword for you
I’ll die for your love
i spend all my time thinking about it
i can be surrounded by the prettiest sights
with the best people
doing the most enjoyable things
and i'll be caught up wondering
pondering
how it got to this
how much more will i discover
before i can't take it any longer
how long will i let you hurt me
before i finally find the nerve to let go
will it hurt more to let you go
or to keep myself stuck in this spot
forever
will you ever tell me everything
admit to it all
i don't think i could trust you again
not even with time
it'd be nice to know you think about it too
to know you feel guilty
but i know it doesn't eat you alive
like it does me
taking any last bit of joy i have left
or any i can try to find
i'd have more room for joy if i let you go
if i can ever bring myself to it
Walked a lot... why? Didn't want to wait for the bus in the chilling wind.
I had to walk, block by block, through alleys and backyards.
Bought some groceries, came home, had my lunch. Its a murky day outside. But I had just come from there, hadn’t I?
The weather seemed normal to me, and the wind only blew at the bus stops. What now?
I have to go back to the past. To your photo album. You're waiting for me there, as always, at your computer desk. Hello, my darling. It’s great to see you.
Those shadows you see
are not meant to frighten.
They are angels watching over
your life.
The angels in the day
are clusters of clouds
guiding your way.
The angels you feel
are the love ones you miss.
They are keeping your memories alive.
Memories are meant to last,
not pass.
Specific Types of Missing You Poems
Read wonderful missing you poetry on the following sub-topics:
brother, christmas, dad, death, heaven, her, him, husband, jail, love, mum, romantic, sad, sister, wife
and more.
Definition | What is Missing You in Poetry?