Snippets, scribbles and quick writes.
The written word, derived from this mind of mine.
A collection of my thoughts, my imagination. My stories.

My writing, in the raw.

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The thing I loved most about him was his smile. Physical aspect, yes, but the aesthetic value of his smile alone was worth far more than the purest of ores. Mentally, his mind was golden. I constantly pondered how he was able to keep his brain from exploding due to the frequent overload of bright ideas. He was insightful, delightful, wonderful, and a thousand of other -ful’s used with positive connotation(but of course). His perspectives shifted mine by the means of simple suggestions. His words were soothing, calming. Erasing all traces of stress and worry and replacing the creases in my brow with a glowing curve of the lip. The very sounds that emanated from his vocal cords and formed what we humans perceive as “language” always sounded like sweet milk; that is, if sweet milk ever had a sound. Everything about his very being, his very essence fascinated me. I still question what made me crave him more: his absence, or his presence? Whenever he spoke to me, the words that escaped from his lips not only caressed my fancy with a sense of enticement but sounded as if they were kissed by eloquence. I do not say these things in attempts to be poetic; he simply inspires me to speak beautifully, like the soul incorporated with his body. If only I could articulately speak as naturally as he; to recite the world lyrically and seduce others with nothing but the mind and soul.

He is poetry.

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