Absentias

Some part of me is not ecstatic
To have you part from me so soon.
That part thinks it is symptomatic
That I can never sing in tune.
It thinks the discords I provide
Are signs of how I yearn for you
And that if you were by my side
My harmonies would all be true.
The rest of me is well aware
I sing as poorly when you're here
And uses that to tell my care
That it must learn to persevere:
For though I wish you didn't leave
In your return I must believe.