Accustumed to the taste
of kisses laced with cigarettes.
Still wondering if I'm in love yet,
but sure of [two] being my favorite
letter in the alphabet.

A kiss on each lip.
Mind stops thinking
once hands reach her hips.

Previous verse too explicit.
Lost the license to my innocence.
Missing her precious presence in
this instance and as I yearn for her to not
be so distant I'm taught to balance the
act of being patient.

Distinguished marks on necks
show others where our night led
and if this is the way we're starting
I wonder what step for us is next.

Body has become a canvas that she
uses to mark her territory, and she
reveals her desires to see me have
become unhealthy.

Unconsciously feeling guilty for making
her become addicted to each letter
I write her. Personal like a writer and
creating circuits made of love with this
pen I call a wire.

Last verse. Do the words make it better
or worse? Would you care to take the
burden of breaking this curse? Falling in
love for the second time. [two] more than
just a letter and ever since you showed
up its all been a bit better.

[time]

Someone suggested it wouldn't last
long. Give it a couple months and see
that she held my hand last week and
said that she wouldn't give up on me.  

Her words I love and her voice calms
each nerve, and it brings me joy to see
her smile after hearing the
accompanying sound known as laughter.

Count every time I've made your heart
skip a beat and if the answer is five;
realize that it's no coincidence that
you're now a part of my life.

Time flies by so let's detain it and hear
every tick blaring in our ears
so we can learn to appreciate it and
retain exactly what it is that's passing by so fast.

Each poem an accompaniment and
dedication in developing my appreciation
to the muse whose perfection has
engrained itself within my retinas.

She's fallen asleep as I write this which
is just part of our routine. She'll be up
around 8 with a response that'll make
my day before it's started.

Poems that you inspire correlate with
my suspicion. Beauty radiates from your
presence and take this poem as a
present for keeping my heart mended
in the present.

Ending this poem is difficult.
Similar to when we part ways after
experiencing the most amazing day.

Remember each moment. Treasure each
memory. Experience each emotion in
due time and knowing how amazing it is
to know that it's you I'm with as it races by.

Fingers continue to whisper.
Fingers linger longer
and these strokes serve as
exercise to make them stronger.  

Practice makes perfect and when
practicing on a perfect canvas leads to
writing beautiful verses in cursive.

Before we fall asleep she kisses every
finger as a beautiful gesture to assure
that, these same fingers reproduce the
familiar and extravagant pleasure.

Fingers speak in a language I can't
comprehend, but only her body can
understand and if these same fingers
that squeeze this pencil tip are guilty of
letting her relish moans and sighs
gasping for air, then accept my
apologies for getting the public involved
in my affairs.

Fingers continue to whisper as they
speak softly to the goosebumps present
on her body. Fingers continue to
whisper, and without my muse these
urges to write I keep I fighting. Fingers
continue to whisper telling me to keep
writing.

Taking [love], and together
we build, mold and shape a new definition
to the archaic word that must've existed before
Eve could even describe what she was feeling.

Absence makes the heart grow strong
and right now it seems as though I've grown fond
of someone who is just shy of perfection.  

Recollection of every memory in my possession,
growing anxious knowing when
our love she'll once again start addressing.

Count the sunsets and
sunrises we've missed seeing,
due to all the time we've spent dreaming
with our eyes wide open.

Successfully conquered someone's else's heart and
although it all starts to fall apart I wonder if gaining
the strength to ignore faults can be used
to hold up the stars.

Create the sky with the color of ink
that reflects the night and look up at it
for answers to finally stop asking [why]

Inspired by the same muse who's forced me
to abuse the pen held by my fingers, and yes,
their thoughts continue to linger on the one girl who causes
them to speak a 4 letter idiom that begins with the letter [L].

To others it's just a word but her name
is synonymous to love and discovery
of that to me, means the world.

Writing this as the stars settle.
The eve of the 25th. Heart inhaling love
letting down its armor, and I realize that without
her my organs won't function for much longer.

Gripping dark leaded pencils
with tips as sharp as the razors
estrogen slit their wrists with.

Mischief produced
due to the size this heart
has been reduced to,
and deduce that she left
after growing weary
of the same being she's seduced.

Serotonin levels low.
Drugs will bring them up,
and perhaps under their
influence this [derelict]
will encounter the verb ****.

Endless void of
disappointments have
left him poignant, causing
an appointment to sell souls
to fictional individuals.

Admire the horizon while
he's wasting time rhyming.
Crying to keep haunting
spirits alive and using them in
literature in pitiful attempts to thrive,
simply to leave the entire world who's
abandoned him behind.

27 club. Second attempt
at having [conversations] with death.

Out of despair I've broken
the glass protecting this mind
from our memories, as we see
each recollection begin to leak,
your thought, once again
impossible to make hearts retreat.

The explanation I'm deserved;
forgotten, as it's now stained with forgiveness,
in order to attempt a different tactic at recapturing
the heart, of which a picture, I keep in this attic.

Can you read the words
of this asthmatic?
That my voice is finally
calm and not frantic.
Hate my enemy, to it,
no longer an addict.
That to you this seems
as me trying to keep
sparks lit with static.

Correct you are lovely lady,
and if you read this in content, get in contact
with man whose name begins with a consonant,
keep communication constant and let us
learn to walk before jogging.

At the moment too overwhelmed and
if the tattooed [two] were to appear
I'd steer the [conversations] onto revealing
I'm held up in investing a relationship with fame.

The pieces are starting to fall into place.
I'd tell you in detail,
but for now I'll keep this tongue tamed.