by Khrys Vaughan
I miss the air I was about to breathe,
the places I were about to go.
I miss the moments I were about to enjoy,
times that did not need to be planned;
Life as it appeared it was about to be in spite of the tension ignored underneath.
I miss preparing for things that never happened,
walks I were about to take,
trails I had yet to discover.
Faint glimpses of me from long ago appearing beside the me I thought I should be.
Friends they never were.
I miss things that never were looking for things that should have been.
The life that was about to be.