What business you do in the shadows
All your engagements under moonlight
They are none of my concern
Your little secrets, they are yours
I was just wondering how you were
You should be happy now perhaps
Can't think why else would you stop writing
Wasn't it misery that crossed our paths
Wasn't it sadness that made you visit
Now I'm not certain to find comfort
That you found home in someone else's
Sometimes I miss being your go-to
But mistake that not as being jealous
I was just wondering how you do
Do you still bring your red umbrella on days you're certain the clouds won't fall?
Do you still love moons, and local tunes from bands that you and I adore?
Do you still walk slower a bit among roses, admiring all those with longer thorns?
Do you still paint the pictures in your head, even on days you don't have time for?
I was just wondering how you are, but you won't tell me anymore.
Do you still love crying over tragedies?
Do you still love crying?
Do you still love?
Do you?
Do.
Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 1:42 PM UTC
I wanna have lunch with Poe,
at Burger King,
because I'm sure he would appreciate how ghoulish that King in their commercial is
I don't want him to recite verse
while we fill our medium cups with corn syrup nectar--a giant leap
down from laudanum
I do want to ask about the Cask of Amontillado and being walled in slowly, for eternity
for to me that is creepier than all the crimson cream in the Masque of the Red Death
I want to know if he likes the fries--will he dare to dip them in scarlet paste we call catsup
mostly I want to know if he remembers the alley where he was found,
not yet a legend, consumed by consumption and delirium in equal measure
and if there were rodents privileged to hear his last whispered words--or even a gasp
I am buying, Ed, so grab that Whopper with both bony paws and tell me terrible tales, evermore
Sep 6, 2017
Sep 6, 2017 at 2:02 PM UTC
Tired of hanging around, life at his neck, it seems
A little breather was all that he needs
So he took a little walk to a ledge off a cliff
He took a little walk to blow his head off some steam
He recalled "down the road, not across the street"
So he made a little cut through a familiar stream
Now a vein in the arms of time slowly bleeds out
Down for the count, on the ground, he picked his poison
He knew it might be over soon so he simply tried to drown
Out the voices in his head, telling him to never frown
In the face of death. He stood by the edge, knowing
It will all be over somehow.
This would only take a while now.
Whistling a tune, he waited for the noon to set
It might be over soon, he whispered to himself.
Sep 6, 2017
Sep 6, 2017 at 2:49 AM UTC
Sunday ceremony reminiscing
Ephemeral sins, mundane whims,
Heaven descended beings
Aug 24, 2017
Aug 24, 2017 at 12:30 PM UTC
And it seems as / if she's falling for him //
So she asked / if he feels the same //
He's a real *** / so he told a lie that day //
Because for him it's too fast / to be falling again //
That's relapse / that they could not take //
That was the last / time the two will see each other's face //
Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 3:06 PM UTC
Happiness is flying kites
Against empty winds and gray sunshine
Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 2:56 PM UTC
Done are all the days when we
Will stare at the sky and shoot adoration
Dreaming we could take the moon home
And hang it by our window
Don't you see, darling
The clouds, they fall just the same every year
The sun too, sets just the same on every sea
So why would we think that
Ours is special
Done are all the days when we
Will blame the stars for our collisions
Says the Lunar Libran
To the Capricorn Moon that you are
This is what you wanted all along
I couldn't be wrong because the Moon told me so
The stars aligned and shone
Brighter that time when we sat
On that shore after sunset
Believe me, the night was longer
The heavens were darker,
Which meant the stars shone brighter
The night we said that done are the days
When we blame the sky for our mistakes
Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 3:06 PM UTC
Bombs and guns
Firing from a distance
Shooting at the innocent
Orphans, widows, and children
The blood of the martyrs
Is the blood we had to shed
To put evil to an end
Said a captain to his men
Saying this is what Jesus did
And so their voices say yes sir
But in the trembling you hear otherwise
And the other white lies they tell themselves
As the other side lies on the ground in red
Bleeding to death with
A bullet in its head
And a pistol by his left hand
Wishing the soldiers have left and
The sound of the guns go quiet when night comes
A father sings his son to sleep
And tells him about dreams
And the beauty of life
He covers his ears and eyes
As people scream in the middle of the night
"AIR STRIIIIIIIIKE"
...
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 2:13 AM UTC