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EK Aug 1
It's so very tempting to love,
even when a clear end is close at hand.
What if I just never reached for that clear end?
What if we just walked along forever, with the end forever close at hand?
If the distance between here and the end can be split in two and twice and thrice again, isn't the end an infinity away, even if near?

what if I never reached out for the end?
What if, instead, we just walked hand-in-hand, looking past the end, reaching around it for another rose?
What if that glinting little end floated along nearby, but never came between us?

Is there such thing as a "dealbreaker"?
Does it HAVE to be?

What is greater, what has more power over me? My desires, or my other desires?

If he's not right, does that very certainly make him wrong?

How inconvenient is awareness, and how very fleeting is bliss.

I wish I could turn a blind eye, but now I've thought about it too much.

It's so foolish to ignore a deadline, to procrastinate on heartbreak, but I so wish the Monday Morning of reality weren't so near.
EK Nov 2019
of pain

fell down

i feel the same
out in the lane

sent from a place safe
to a place


unknown i am
to myself
who am i
where am i

i feel unknown and all alone

the raindrops have their friends,
not alone in their despair

i am but a lonely rainbow.
this is so sad alexa play despacito
  Sep 2019 EK
Bo Burnham
Her eyes were like fire.
They weren't red or anything.
Not particularly warm, either.
They didn't glow or "appear to glow,"
whatever that means.

But they had that same strange blend of
familiar and miraculous---
and they were always nice to look at
after a long day of doing things.
  Feb 2019 EK
Bo Burnham
How, may I ask, did you get so you,
you beautiful true-to-you doer?
I've met many today but I can honestly say
that I've never met anyone you-er.
EK Feb 2019
It’s hard to write happy –
It just gets sappy.

I can write sad and I can write mad,
But my poems about you are just so BAD.

I think about you and am filled with joy!
Fancy that! All this for a BOY!

Together, forever, wherever, ALAS!
This feeling, I think, will never pass.

I like you, I like you, I like you a lot!
Our future, I fear, I am beginning to plot!

We’ll get married and say our I do,
Pack up our things, and go somewhere new,

You’ll be a good father, I’m sure that you will,
You’ll hold me tightly, even when I’m ill.

We’ll have a child (a boy or a girl),
Our lives will spin into quite a whirl.

They’ll grow up like you, thoughtful and kind,
A flaw in them I shall never find.

We’ll have our fights,
Hushed ones in the nights,

I’ll won’t find the words for why I love you,
But I never knew why, I just knew that I knew.

But perhaps with space, or maybe just your face,
I’ll be reminded of your goodness and grace.

But maybe, just maybe, when we’re old and gray,
I’ll get it, I'll get it, I’ll have found a way.

I’ll say--
Scraps from some notes from little me's journal sewn together anew. Tried to hit that childish excitement about life that is really so beautiful. I'm a grouchy cynic now who just writes sad and mad, and that makes me sad and mad.
I talked to my young cousin who often fancies herself in love, and nearly forces young boys to her will, proclaiming herself engaged to them
EK Feb 2019
The Snow falls

One cannot help but notice the snow,
one cannot help but remark on its beauty,
yet one cannot help but notice its biting chill.

You're remarkable and everywhere,
undeniably lovely,
undeniably everywhere.

Your beauty and your cold are overwhelming.
As much as I awe at someone so violently gentle,
I can't get too close.
Ventures in the snow leave me with a chill and dripping socks.

We're incompatible, you and I.
You with your blustery flurries and I with my weak immune system.
When with you, I 'd shield myself with coats and gloves,
I'd want to be near you, but still apart;
warming my hands as I protect my heart.

I want a love like a cup of tea,

I want a love like a cup of tea,
warming me and banishing the memory of the cold of snow.

I want a love like a cup of tea,

I want a love like a cup of tea,
No one chooses tea for what it looks like, but rather for what its made of.

I want to love someone with the passion of chai,
the forgiveness of chamomile,
the strength of mint.

Soon you'll disappear in the sun,
too weak to stay.
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