Snapshots.

Pavement in the rearview,
framing the face of the boy
who says goodbye with his smile.

Black and white photographs,
freeze forever flawless moments
when life made sense.

Skinny dipping at midnight,
bare skin and smiling faces
emerge into the iridescent water.

Scars etched into his wrist,
delicate white lines on a chalkboard,
slowly fading but never gone.

The smell of coffee against the sunrise,
a gentle breeze on a summer day,
a comfort for the weary.

Women never satisfied with
the reflection in the mirror.
We could always be
better.


i decided i miss writing poetry.
so, there should be more of this to come.