You remind me of that lipgloss you wore, remember when I was driving and as we sat at the red light? Your lips gently pressed against mine, laughing as we yet again got honked at for not immediately speeding away when the light changed color. The way you took your finger to wipe off the smeared gloss now covering my lips and continuing then to inform me you just had to do that..and THEN complain about reapplying it because,well, you just couldn’t let me have the last word. 

You remind me of car rides and talking about everything and anything, you remind me of all the pretty girls who just love Samuel so damn much, you remind me of leather bound journals and ginger tea. You may always come and go as you please, but you’ll always remind me of that lipgloss.


3 Days Down

I don’t think you understand, that when I tell you that if you call me, no matter what time. I’ll be there.

It’s never a question of how far, or wasting gas. I don’t mind coming to get you and to take you out. 

In fact I enjoy it, you’re refreshing and just great to be around. I’m lucky that you don’t get tired of me, because I’m sure as hell not tired of you.


Flightless in New Jersey.

You stumbled across me, practically by accident. You swiped right and never gave it a second thought. Not at least until I messaged you, and well that was that.

You are the Queen of Smiles, the only person who can make looking for cat food at Target fun and unforgettable.

You are the Shower Goddess, the shampooer of hairs. The one who can sing with me so badly that it actually sounds better than the song.

You are the Dancing Queen, and the wearer of sweaters. The one who makes wearing my sweaters into an art form.

You asked me to write, and for awhile I wasn’t exactly sure where to even start. You see it’s really hard, when you have my mind buzzing with so many thoughts and ideas it makes me feel like a beehive. Even on days when I just want to curl up and sleep, I know for a fact if my phone screen lit up and I hear that dumb ass..”Yellow!” through the speaker..That I’ll be running to grab my car keys and make an adventure even out of doing nothing.



Order Number 30.

You’re a spitfire, I think that’s what gets me the most. The way your humor instantly flows into my own. The way your laughter actually seems to meet your eyes when you’re with me. The way your lips taste after a conversation filled with smiles. 

You’re easy to get along with and insanely hard to leave. So why don’t you just come away with me in the night, even for just a while. 


5 A.M.

Yes, I’m still awake. Even when it’s this late. .or early. You know what I mean so shhh.

Your voice is growing softer as I know you’re falling asleep. Maybe if I’m lucky you’ll dream a dream of me.

Maybe if I’m really lucky, I’ll wake up tomorrow with you laying next to me.

You’re sweet, you remind me of a warm bed after a long cold day. You remind me of the smell of flowers newly blooming.

Yeah this might be cheesy, but damn you might just have to fight me about it.

To my Jersey Dime.


Fuck me.

The beginning of every story always seems to be picture perfect. There’s the Prince charming and then there’s the beautiful princess, just waiting to be swept off her feet. Do you know how ludicrous that idea really is? I mean okay, it’s a fairy tale, but why can’t I have a fairytale? Why is it, that when I get my heart stabbed through my chest..there isn’t someone just swooping in the catch my fall. I mean, holy Fuck, I get it. I’m kind of a terrible person, I do some bad things sometimes. But even the devil can change right? I mean who keeps dragging me through the mud. Because everytime I feel myself ACTUALLY having some kind of intimate attachment with someone, one of two things always seems to happen.
1. I fuck it up because of anxiety, anger, and a pleasant mixture of both with just a twist of self loathing to tie it together.


2. They pull the plug and *skerrtt* the love story just ends..that’s it..pack up the romance novels..this puppy is being left at the shelter. Again.
But maybe this is just sad me, thinking to myself at 1:26 a.m. because I’m alone in my room staring out the window listening to the sound of the wind and not caring about the fact that I might just delete this all or that this is turning into one long ass run on sentence because fuck punctuation all it ever does is get in the way and stop me from talking when I need to fucking talk so please if anyone can just like get the fact that I am happy like super happy 99% of the time and 90% of the time I don’t mind being left alone but even I want someone to be there for me when I’m at that dirty 1%. 


Tic TacĀ 

You’re refreshing.

Okay seriously enough of bad puns, for now at least.

I mean it though, you remind me of the morning after a thunderstorm.

The clean air and new feeling that only utter chaos can usher in.

You’re outstanding because even though there is still so much I have to learn, I feel like you’ve been here for years.

You look like a fresh cup of coffee, kit kat bars and a smile.

Sometimes it takes more than one try to find someone really worth keeping around. 

Well I’m glad you chose me twice, because that makes me a very lucky man.
“Youd have gotten it, if there were pins there” – Bitch Ass