A rolling hill
With suffocating oaks
Under the dire grey of sky
Pass along the dire straits
Of the Ded.

And the Ded do speak
Like silent auras wandering
In poetical forms,
From the Ded they embrace
The pain and sad skies.

Slowly they walk the desolations
And bring forth the balance
Of the darkness's and a
Black rose blooms.

Once alive the Ded searched
For hope;
But the self absorption
In the heavy skies
In the mind's prison
Hold a still terror,
The Ded walk among marble slabs
Of light.

I vaguely recall
whole nights of deep
refreshing slumber,
waking renewed
and ready.
Now, every morning,
I stumble into
consciousness
from an
exhausting welter
of dreams and demons
wondering who
you must ****
to get a single,
decent night of sleep
around here?
- mce

I just want you to know,
though we aren't very close,
I wish you didn't have to go

Your choices are amusing
Going every which-way
Certain you're refusing
A life of "everyday"

Explain a tight budget
And future student loans
Continue to spend hundreds
On ink and Patrón

Ruin relation with me
And your "handle" on addiction
Reunite with nicotine,
Whiskey and restriction

Encounter a crisis at twenty
Isolate yourself
No, you're not hiding
Resuscitate your hell

We stand
on the ephemeral  balcony
serving medium rare chicken
wearing ankle socks
savoring the ticks to the decay of perfection

our nights end when their days begin—  
chasing the power that made the moon rise—

Old age is philanthropy
for the failures of youth—

Casual men
tell us these casual things
before they
leave our youth

What do I need
Is it a verse, something romantic and clever
Or is it an epic, once in a lifetime endeavor
Would a simple, yet short and heartfelt confession do it
Or would the awkward silence break me, as I stare into your eyes knowing that I already knew it
I had a chance, but still I ******* blew it
Maybe its all in just being myself
But if its something special I could use a little help