I still hear the ocean
whenever I close my eyes.

"I love the beach," you said.
I looked at you then
with a grin on my face.
It wasn't intentional
but I used to make those
when you were near.
I guess it meant I'm happy,
or stupid enough to believe
what you say.

I still feel the sunset—
its glow, the overrated
orange skyline,
the melancholy it
wrapped us in.
A subtle reminder that the day
was about to die
and that it's so **** beautiful
when it does.
I told you this kept
my heart beating.
You were too quick
to agree.

Maybe that's why
you had to leave.

Maybe you liked
the sunrise more.