Peekaboo...I Don't see you.

A sound on my voice-mail
That's all that remains
Of all the longs conversations,
The mock-fights, the laughter, the subsequent pain.

Like swiftly receding mist,
A memory is what you've become
To which I'm holding on super-tight,
So much, it hurts and is driving me insane.

Every time I think of you,
Re-read your messages, listen to the voice-mail
It's a smile, then a grimace,
Then deep sorrow all over again.

So tired of this game
All I want to do
Is be with you, hold you tight
So it makes everything alright
And stop this peekaboo of sunshine and rain.