Miss You and More

The way, in some languages,

People say, I miss you,

Makes me realise,

How when we miss someone,

We are not just missing them,

We are missing a part of our own heart,

That we gave away, voluntarily.

Like in French, you say,

Tu me manques,

Which, when translated literally means,

You are missing from me.

Something is missing from me,

Like my own piece of heart,

That you had.

Like you've claimed it somehow,

And is now yours to keep.

Like in Persian, when you want to say,

I wish you were here, you say,

Jāy-e shomā khālīst,

Which, word by word means,

Your place is empty.

Like my heart feels empty,

Without a piece of mine,

That you once took,

Which, now is,

Yours to keep.

And, now, today,

I just want to say,

I wish you were here,

Because I miss you,

And all I mean is,

Literally, with every word,

Is, I miss a part of me,

That you took,

And I gave, voluntarily,

Is it stil yours to keep?

Do you still claim it?