The Habit of Missing

A strange uneasiness lingers in my heart,

As though I'm waiting for someone.
It's all over—I know that.
Yet why does this silence still wait with me?

I've moved on... or so I tell myself.
Still, my eyes return, again and again,
Longing for just one more glimpse.
One last moment that no longer exists.

Perhaps I've gone a little lunatic,
Holding on to an invisible hope.
Maybe it's not you I'm waiting for
Maybe it's the part of me you took along.