My shitty poetry diary

westport who am i to miss you?

Who am I to want to return to you?

To show up at your doorstep and feel brand new.

To leave my conscience back in the dry lands and feel my soul bloom in your dewy atmosphere.

Who am I to feel entitled to breath your salty air and lay ashore while the ocean washes my hair.

I miss your daisy fields, and hearing you speak your booming voice against the cliff sides under the crescent.

I miss your sweet sunsets, the polychromatic show of dramatic pinks and blues that fade into what's above my head.

I miss finding trinkets that from the beach that I kept on a shelf above my bed.

I find myself wandering through your redwoods every so often, before I remember I haven't touched that heavenly bark since I felt peace.

since I felt my mind ponder with ease.

Who am I to daydream about ascending into your soft clouds that emit a sweet mist over your body.