Upon Hearing My Poetic Style Called Dark and Edgy
I never thought of it as dark-
confused, cynical, leery perhaps.
But dark? Dark is burnt toast, a scar, charcoal,
I admit to embracing wickedness some days-
basking in bitterness, apathy, judgment.
now that seems more appropriate.
I like to teeter on the cliff
above the valley of oblivion-
write things down that won’t
make sense to anyone
not even me.
Better to be on edge
than in the dark.
From here I could jump
over to the camp of optimism, odes, the overt.