Miss you

I miss the red tiles. The ones that made up the dusty terrace. I miss sitting upon an angle. And the wind. Blowing through my entire being as if I weren't there. Pushing me down on my back as I climbed higher. With friends in cheap boxers, often torn at wrong places. I miss the clarity. And the feeling. That there was no other place I'd rather be.

Now there's always a place that I'd rather be. Always people I'd rather be with. But the place isn't mine, never was. And the people ..

I miss the todays. The overcast ones. The days when nothing else came to mind but flying and the blues.

I miss me. Damn.