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Scott Garrison Feb 2015
You remind me of spring
with the gentle warmth
caressing the land
like your hand in mine
when we would sit and watch
the fireflies
light up the twilit sky

You remind me of summer
with fireworks
in your cloudless eyes.
Like the fourth of July
sitting love drunk on the lawn
with a balmy breeze blowing through
your ash gold hair

You remind me of autumn
with the way words roll of your lips
like the raindrops in the early morning
wetting the fallen leaves
from the night before
making the world smell
brand new

You remind me of winter
with your alabaster skin
shimmering with light
from the fireplace.
Your embrace kept the whiskey feeling
in my stomach
as we huddled beneath the covers

You remind me of the sun
and how it dances with the moonlight
every single morning
and takes a bow
every single night
before laying down,
with me
Scott Garrison Feb 2015
I see your body
pale white against the night sky
like a luminescence cast from the moon
calm yourself down
and tell your tide to come back
to shore

I've seen you punch wine bottles
until you’re so drunk off your own fist
you can’t see straight
from the stars in your eyes
hoping for a chance
or a shot
or an expectation

I would expect no less
from someone as hopefully hopeless
because when I look at you
I see myself
in the clear lines that run
from your eyes
and stain your cheeks

I wish someone could sail up your river
slam the gate, break the gears
and close up your dam
It’s a ******* shame
your eyes are starting
to only shine from the water lines

Don’t drown in your own sky
Tell your tide to come back to shore
I’m sure you will find
your way
Scott Garrison Mar 2015
I’ve never been in love

Ben said, if that’s all you have to worry about
then you’re doing pretty **** well

After some consideration
I decided that it’s okay for now
you should know yourself
before someone else
could ever hope to reciprocate
and the biggest lie I can tell myself
is that I have it all figured out
at twenty two

I feel like all I am capable of writing about is love
and cliché lines like
her eyes could stop freight trains
or some nonsense about
how she moves like the phases of the moon
but there is one thing I have realized:
you do not need pretty words for your poetry
to have meaning

All I know for sure
is that I like root beer and whiskey
and the way I know spring is coming
by a scent in the air that I just can’t put my finger on

I know I have a hint of north Baltimore accent
and just because I couldn’t make it at a university
I am not a failure
dorm life isn’t for everyone
and sometimes I would rather drink alone

I’ve never been in love
for now that’s enough
Scott Garrison Feb 2015
You were
the white picket fence
and
the house in
the suburbs.
Not to mention
the reason
I left
my home
for a chance at
a better life.
You were
my American Dream
Scott Garrison Feb 2015
Was it as cold there
as it is here?
You told me once
it felt like you
were constantly covered in a blanket
that was a little too short
to fully cover you

February had never been as frigid
as it was when you were
woken up from warm dreams
to fireworks and cold screams
or
when your brothers received
“Dear John” letters
from lovers who now love
someone else.
Happy Valentine’s day

The only thing you received
was a small post card
which read,
“I miss you
come home safe
I will wait for you.”
You told me
It kept you warm
for the next two months
this burden
carried next to
your heart

Your chest always ached
from there on out

— The End —