the sad branches provided a canopied space,
among the cold dew and quiet crickets.
the sun shown in small rays through the green branches.
peace and serenity consumed me
and i never wanted to leave.
leaving sounded so awful, so i stayed forever.
-/e.d/
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 1:56 AM UTC
you look like a crime scene.
yellow tape keeps everyone back,
besides me.
-/e.d/
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 1:43 AM UTC
this party will be a total rager.
a party full of mistakes with the highest of stakes.
everyone will be buzzed
and the few that decided
to remain in their natural
element are the sane.
the mess will be created by the insane.
so let's party hard.
-/e.d/
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 1:40 AM UTC
Blame it on
Your absent father
Your addict mother
Your unexpected children
Blame it on
Anyone, and anything
So you never have to
Take responsibility
For your own actions
It's the whiskey
That hit me
It's my own shards
That tore me apart
It's a malevolent God
That lied about love
'Cause you don't do anything
Blame it on
My fragile psyche
My insecurities
My "impossible" needs
Blame it on
Anyone, and anything
So you never have to
Take responsibility
For what you've done to me
It's the cigarettes
That stole my breath
The weight of my expectations
That broke my trust
The spinning of my own wheels
That drove me into madness
'Cause you don't do anything
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 1:21 AM UTC
If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.
If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.
If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 1:12 AM UTC
i have found what you are like
the rain,
(Who feathers frightened fields
with the superior dust-of-sleep. wields
easily the pale club of the wind
and swirled justly souls of flower strike
the air in utterable coolness
deeds of green thrilling light
with thinned
newfragile yellows
lurch and.press
—in the woods
which
stutter
and
sing
And the coolness of your smile is
stirringofbirds between my arms;but
i should rather than anything
have(almost when hugeness will shut
quietly)almost,
your kiss
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 1:10 AM UTC