A chaotic poem. The poetry is missing

I miss you.

I miss how it felt.

I miss the butterflies.

I miss the red on my cheeks.

I miss your hands.

I miss something I never felt.

I miss delusion.

I miss my ignorance.

I miss this time, when I thought I could love.

I miss my parents when they were in love.

I miss the past.

I miss the deceased.

I miss the impossible.

I miss the inexistant.

I miss when I knew how to write a good poem.