Poetry - Lovelorn Diaries Vol.1

Deep-Sequestered-Path

As Everyone's got the cold's cold— one girl was crying on the way home. He found himself walking alone, taking the jeep met with smoke and mundane shades of hope.

if One group was taking their hearts out in a graduation ceremony— They came to plan a party, And me and my friends out here so sorry, I held my palm out for their memories cause I wish no one to fight nor quarry, and then I'd receive an obituary, I held out things most special to me, I'd list down the great this had done to the air I breathe.

As peripheral heat slows down and double's my vision— And I can't extain the blurry directions, Then be left in point nemo— Closer to be heard by the moon or by the water as one sings out like pluto, I wish to have and want to be— a prowess of your topography , Is there space in your rumpus-room? If you ever sought out a clarity when one goes to bed no fear to gravitate down and lose his current stake of dowry.

I wrote down a love language for the play, but both actors didn't know how to portray it, So in my mind I play all the characters, read the script— eyes interchanged, And knew who's endgames intied like a secret — No one can be hurt in the softness of its lucidity and prudence.

I tried to build the tower with one hand holding the pieces — The other one carrying the weight of your heartstrings and leasings— The kisses and the drugs — The trophies As sharp edges piercing as it stung on my wrists– my hustle— blood dripping from my fists– bites of love full throttle– pull the lever go for it.

And I hear a distant calling across the shallow night, it's the goddess iris or death called hades in the hollow— a light switch in the room where it finally shows the face that really touched my deepest sentimentality— But the drop of the hot-lit-oil paired with shock as he air grew frigid and cold— As my eyes stare you back boldly, really made you fly away outlandishly— your wings— your body being eclipsed by the full moon in February —left me at balcony, so cold and unweary.

I don't know if he wants to love me till the end— or it's just a vision as I stare at the bedroom ceilings in my head,

I was expecting a monster yet an angel came instead— I wish cupid and psyche the best.

05-2-24

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-Gillian Edwards