The last thing I said

was, "Oh, Hey, bye."

I had a feeling in my stomach,

that you weren't coming back.

I wish I was wrong, but no

I had to be right.

I wish you were here.

I wish I saw the signs.

Instead I'm sitting,

alone in the house,

writing a poem of how I miss you so,

and all the things I wish I would've done.

Nothing can bring you back,

which I now realize,

but still it doesn't hurt

to hope that you're somewhere.

Maybe you'll pop back in

because I want to change my last words, 

and give you a huge hug.

I want to tell you

never to leave,

and I'd hold you tight.

I hope you understand.