i could be passive, gracefully.

it's such an uneasiness that i feel that i don't know whether to buckle into a fetus and cry or laugh. either way, i'm crying tonight. i miss you. and i know that i overuse the word miss, but when it comes to you, i can't say it enough. when shit hits the fan, all i want is to find comfort in your voice. i look for your old voice mails in the depths of my shitty memory. i look for old pictures in the archives of my heart. i miss you, Joann. i miss you every day of my life. every second. i miss you in between days. in between heavy bass lines from to wish impossible things. i miss squeezing you into empty pages of my diary. i miss you in the high notes of calculation theme. you've been present in my dreams but absent in my life and all i want is to see you. so that i don't have to dig through thoughts and vague memories. so i don't have to shovel away five years worth of clutter that has made me gather nothing else but the musty scent of other people that haven't acquired what you did in two months. i'll dust off the memories and open the book again. and once you've gone again, it will close for good. but for now, i will continue to miss you and i will continue to write to somehow make everything stop spinning; if only for a moment.