I got a certain letter today....
and because you told me you enjoy my writing, i'll put a poem on here. Fair warning, its old.

How can I miss
what I didn't have.
Just
out of reach.
My fingertips brush
something-- you?
The word on my tongue
the wind in my hair
and tight-skinned cheeks,
can I still feel it?
some days,
somedays...
what im reaching for
is me
but am i
already gone?