Miss

I miss it. I missed it. I miss those smells. I miss that voluminous gaze. I miss the valley, oh how I do. Remember that one time? I remember them all. I've missed it. Rapture. Infinite complacency. I missed the signs. The exit. That place. I miss a certain type of blue. Bullets & bullets, chains atop chains that you wrangle me in with. I'm locked in your cellar. I missed it. Then, not now. I see it. In some other town, you'll be there. It'll be there. It's always with you. Bound to mediocrity now. There ain't nothing there. You've missed it too. You have your own chains, kept tied up by another. Hazy rooms, cigar smoke & the smell of cognac. A gamble you've taken. Nothing. There ain't nothing. Use that, if you want. Happiness CAN be vice. A motherfucker, destined to achieve that which is so easy to find. A man of simple. Redundant. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. This way, up here, you can have it. It's a hard climb up, but at the peak is a view insuperable to anything down there. I'm no shepherd, but I am a rock. I've missed it & now you do too. I'll set up here for a while, that's alright. Good things never come easy.