I fell in love with the soft
whimpers that escape you
when your body is first
waking up in the morning.
The way you twist and
turn to awaken every muscle.

Saltwater Poet.
Waves washing over me cleanse my soul.
Salt-soaked sand glues itself
to my skin,
it clears the cobwebs in my cluttered mind.
Anchoring back near the coast
is my ultimate goal.
Reaching others through my words
with the help of my
Nautical Muse.

My greatest fear is
that handwritten letters
will soon be a lost
art.
My greatest wish
is to be your
only artist.

I long to lay my eyes
upon the inside of your mind,
and take notice of the
tiny mess you've built
for comfort.
And then I will compare
it to the tiny mess you've
made inside my heart
for the same reasons.

Someone asked me my favorite color.
All I could think to answer, was that
pink and orange mixture that radiates
from the sun a half hour after 7
in the beginning of October,
reflecting vibrantly in her hazel eyes,
while her fingers are entwined with mine
and the faint smell of her perfume
blends with the Autumn smell
of mowed grass and bonfires.

Chewed another ****** to forget you.
Chased it with a shot of Jack just to
dull the gnawing in my gut a little.
I fell into a deep slumber.

Then there you were in my dreams.
So predictable.

Tomorrow night I will take two.
Chase them with two more shots.

There has to be something to **** this
counterfeit perfect memory of you.

It's so odd how one smell can trigger so many emotions.
I used an old deodorant today and I
swear every time I lift my arms I am
back in your bed, one hand behind my head
and the other wrapped around your petite body.
The nostalgia has a choke-hold on me these days.

It's so odd how one smell can trigger so many feelings,
like the scent of Old Spice,
or the perfume in your favorite store.
Or the smell of our frequented restaurant,
or the metallic blood on my lips when your cutting words
blended with your sweet kiss and caught me off guard.