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love
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old Love is sitting down the street at your lonely friends house throwing back shots while your ex is at homecoming with boy you always had a feeling she liked.
Love is a red bird, previously white.
love is remembering how distraught you were the other night because you forgot for one second that romance is for poeple that lie.
Love is a parade of vigilant nightmares.
Love is waking up every morning and vomiting out your second story window thinking of a beautiful girl, with a beatiful boy.
Love is the darkest blood, and the lightest skin.
Love is the brightest eye, and the biggest tear.
Love is a rusted playscape in a ghost town
awesome poem .