As I glance upon your face one last time,
I'm just so grateful I made you mine.
I'll never be an onion, no matter how hard you try,
No need to wipe your tears, I'll never make you cry.
We were all stagnated within the confines of a book,
But then we expanded, and the whole world started to look.
The thrill of winning hits differently, when you've always been losing,
But a bullet isn't dangerous, until it starts moving.

What was once poured in the drain,
Is now intoxicated in my brain.
Looking in to your eyes as I held your hand,
Crashing waves; toes in sand.
The wind gently blows within your hair,
You held me close, I'm forever near.
This has been a journey, one we both faced,
I'll never forget that feeling, your lips aquired taste.

The urge to pull you closer, like a sling and a stone,
Been waiting on this moment, we're finally alone.
The sound of your voice, soothes my mind,
We shared an heartbeat, holding you from behind.
Your very presence, captivates my soul,
After that first kiss, I saw my world unfold.

We did the staring contest, not allowing our lips to collide,
But if kissing you lead to an apocalypse,
Then my dear, we died.
My thoughts became anxious, my lips you bit,
Lost the key to my heart yet you found a locksmith.
Within every verse, I was poeticly charmed,
My heart was cold as winter, but in you I found warmth.
I wanna love you like the Grey Anatomy's cast,
Addicted to you like Caffiene, however long it lasts.

Closing this chapter, brought tears to your eyes,
It's just the beginning of the end, as the Poeticcharmer never dies.
Every phase of my life, has been poeticly perfected,
Written by one rule; Expect The Unexpected.

Melancholy is an understatement, as you are my foundation,
A fundamental milestone to all my  anthologic relations.
The beginning of your end, as I write on this final page,
Will grow even more valuable, as wine does with age.
As the water recedes, from the shores of the sand,
You held me closer, tightly gripped my hand.
The sun asked the moon for a hug, the world called it an eclipse,
But if he had asked for a kiss, it would be called apocalypse.

I will never forget your aroma, I'll never forget your smell,
You lost grip of my finger, in this final farewell.

~Tremar Ivey~
© Poeticcharmer