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.

whispers line the walls of this long forgotten home
the family moved out, they took their things and the kids have long since grown
this house was abandoned like so many others lining the streets in town
i pray for any soul in georgia who thinks they can stick around

there's forgiveness in the floorboards yet the ceiling's seen the sins
that happened just before the darkness took the family in
blood seeps through the cracks and taints the homes' once strong foundation
evil has stolen the innocence from each person in this nation

this house was once a home now it'll be left all alone
for all its days it stays in the shadows of our sinful ways
while the darkness takes what it'll take

the sky blushes at the sight of you
while the wind can't keep its hands away,
caressing
feeling
kneading/needing every inch of your delicate frame and together you dance through the dawn in an intricate waltz to music only you can hear

the sky blushes at the sight of you
while the clouds whisper sweet things about you,
gossiping
admiring
lusting over the concept that someone as beautiful as you might be able to one day love them too, but knowing you wont they disperse and clear your view to leave only the blushing sky in their wake with nothing left to hide behind

the sky blushes at the sight of you
while the moon attempts to catch one last glimpse of you
sneaking
stretching
peeking over the horizon to see just how beautiful a creature you are, but it can't stay long so it settles for the scrapes on your knees and the bruises on your knuckles and can't help but think that they only add to your unsurpassable beauty

the sky blushes at the sight of you
while you stare at the stars that are rapidly and seemingly altogether
fading
melting
disintegrating because the sky cannot help but stare back at the lovely soul that gazes above to make the sky wonder if it's pretty enough, so the sky goes through every colour to please you, black, blue, grey, purple, orange, before finally giving up in a fit of embarrassment that you always seem to find prettiest

the sky blushes at the sight of you
while you can't help to blush back

i want to look dead (but not actually die),
maybe then you'd notice me,
i should give it a try.
my lips (like your eyes) would be blue as the sea,
my hair (like your words) would flow with such ease.
i could grasp your attention and hold on to it tight
so you would not leave in the dead of the night.
my skin smooth as porcelain, as white as a cloud,
perhaps then you might have the strength to say aloud
how much you adore me and how much you care,
how much you truly want me to be there.
but this is all hypothetical, i mean, i'm still alive
and that's what divides us,
confirms you aren't mine.
you are too filled with life (if that could ever occur)
and all that i am is simply a blur.
i want to look dead (not actually die),
maybe then you'd notice me, i should give it a try.