I don't call people 'temporary'.
I prefer to call them guests.
Guests are people who come into your house
But don't make it their home.
You can try to persuade them to.
You can even try and beg them to.
But they prefer their own place,
and besides,
they're not particularly fond of your decor.

being in love is
a hot shower.
cascading and turning your skin red.
cold when you
step out.

sad poems look a little like you.

I love you.

I love you more than I do rainy days
Because rainy days aren't as much fun
When I don't get the pleasure of cuddling you.

I love you more than I do chocolate
Because no amount of sugar amounts
To the amount of sweet you are.

I love you more than I do reading
Because your words seem to unravel me
Much more than words on paper.

I love you more than I do writing
Because without you, I wouldn't have
As much inspiration to write with.

I love you more like Sleepy loves sleeping
Because you get quite sappy
When I keep you up late enough.

I love you like a bee loves flowers
Because without you, my life wouldn't be
Nearly As colorful.

I love you like a child loves blankets
Because you give me comfort,
Warmth, and security.

I love you like a comedian loves laughter
Because you help me know that I'm wanted
And worthy of your time.

My love for you runs deep,
Like the roots of the holm tree
We'll become.

my torment is one of clouds and flowers
freckles upon sun-kissed oranges
like roses through honey
& vivid eyes like the abstraction of Renaissance pieces

oh butterfly how you make my heart melt
chocolate brownie wonders with giggles on top
your effervescence brighter than a summer's day
entrapping my purity within your oppressive interior

our silences are filled with images of my creation
a cornucopia of passion for even the loneliest of wordsmiths

I leap into our pool of nostalgia for old time's sake
only to find your words transform into serpents.

whirlwinds of emotion now whispered into the ears of another
burning adorations into scarred remains

His smile is like an
Evening on the beach.
The waves rising to
Meet our feet,
Tickling our toes.
The breeze flowing,
Sighing as it passes us.
The last birds are
Returning to their
Home and families.
The butterflies in my
Stomach are rumbling
With excitement;
His smile makes my evening.

Translucent memories
Leafs falling from the trees
Green flowers
White rectangles
Blue circles
Fire in the water
Strength has faltered
Vacant in the mind
No track of time