I Don't Brush My Hair

I want you like mad.

   Without you,

                  I am crazy.

Nostalgia hurts bad.

   Say I'm yours,

              Then just take me,

like before.

These old memories

      take me back

      to that shore.

                   Sunsets.

                              That sunrise.

        Trees dressed in warm gold.

  

Sun-kissed.

               Glowing trees.

                                    Vibrant green on those trunks.

                        Swish.

                                  Windy breeze.

                Hair in knots.

                                   Twisted love.

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

Outstanding. With a few well-chosen words, you've painted a clear picture of vibrancy and emotion.