It’s not that I always think of you
Sometimes when the lights go out I don’t think at all
I don’t crave you or need to feel you against me
I just think I do until the lights come on
It’s not that I always dream of you
Sometimes when my eyes close you’re the furthest thing from my mind
I don’t envision you, at my side, hand in mine
The smell of you does not linger after I wake.
I don’t always cry at the mention of your name.
Sometimes when I hear it it’s doesn’t even register to me
I don’t flinch at a hint of yesterday or memory lane
I don’t want to care this much, after all this time.
I mean it’s not like I always think of you.