I know you\'ve never been much for hip-hop and rhymes
And although I\'ve wanted to write stuff for you many, many times...

Ah, fuck it. I\'ll put the rhymes away for a bit.

Even if \"those\" emotions once upon a time grew cold I can still feel my knees
grow weak at the sight of a picture of you. The feeling is not totally unlike
the one I get when the police hit me with their nightsticks in my knee-joint,
or the feeling that a falling star can produce within during a cold november night.

God that felt cliché to write...

But sometimes clichés are the only ones that tell the truth. Remember the first
truth you showed me when you gave me a small drawing of yourself with the words \"I miss you\", in dainty little letters?

Well, I miss you too. Sometimes.

I miss you too sometimes.

Cause. I. Remember, walks through summer nights and
stolen sheets during sleep so deep.
And. I. Remember, eyes so big you thought you could
just fall right in and never ever...

Stop! For if I go on writing that last verse I\'ll sound like a ravening
ex-boyfriend from hell. (You know the type, such a hack)
Don\'t worry girl, I don\'t want you back.

But is it wrong to look with fondness of memories gone past?
Is it wrong to have one part of me wish that they would have last...?

I suppose it ain\'t.

and girl, you still owe me a cup of tea and a hug.
Don\'t brush it off with a shrug
I\'m serious

And although I
Could\'ve written more.
Should\'ve written more.

Part of me says no, though.

So just give me twenty-three seconds (The same as my age) to explain?
Oh heck, I won\'t even need that. At this point,
words are redundant and all too plain.

All I need to say to you is that I miss you sometimes.

I miss you sometimes.