Still Beat You In Mario Kart

I miss you,
the scent of your skin,
the smell of your unwashed hair;
gliding through my fingers.
I miss the way you look at me
like I was the only one in the room.
The way your eyes lit up and sparkled,
as if somone unfortunately splashed packets of glitter
right in your pupils.
I miss the silence.
Uncomfortable sometimes,
comfortable, searching for your hands under the blankets
I miss you.
and it hurts.
My body aches for your touch
in any form.
I'm not sure if I'm lonely,
or lonely for you.