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By Arcassin Burnham




Loving you,
Would take an eternity,
Bury me in chains,
Turn my heart to stone,
See this young boy for who he really is,
With this stronger love,
Lady its apparent I won't leave you alone,
By your side 24/7 when you need me,
Tell emotions to each other like kids at home on the phone,
If you want to meet in person,
Just know that I want you only,
It would be astonishing to wrap my arms around you,

But at the end of the day,
Its you I wanna hold tight,
But at the end of the day,
Its you I wanna hold tight.
poetry mafia
Tangled up again...I couldn't keep myself from the haze and lift that it brings me. I channel thoughts. Giving my addiction excuse to focus on one thing or nothing at all. I could do both. The bowl in my hand is fading. Knuckles bleeding. Stomach wrenching. A life left me. Expecting it to leave maybe 8 months from now but things change. So do people. Let the smoke fill the space between my ears...take me to my little boy. Let me see his smile in my mind. I need it after tonight.

Losing sight of love and this was one I crippled myself for. I loved him for 7 years of my youth. My sparring partner and greatest obsession of the opposite ***. He taught me how to take and give a hit. In more ways than one. Denounced Mormonism and traded it in for something that I thought would last longer than faith. Futile love is always the craze in any generation. Who was I to deny that right of passage? See where I'm getting at?

First to fall for and first to chase. This boy and I took refuge in each other's warped sense of affection. He loved others, of course, while keeping a watchful eye on those I would converse with. They could look but not touch what he had claimed as his. And I was, for all intents and purposes. He was my first for it all. His eyes were the first to glance past the baby fat and crooked teeth. His voice was the first to laugh at the awkward things I'd mumble out. He'd tell me that he loved me before I was pretty.

I became pretty? In the mind of who I imagined to be flawless. Even in the spiraled trap of puberty, he was coveted by the raging hormones of all teenage girls. I wasn't spared. Yet, grateful that I eventually could contest with the face I was consistently in awe with. I let him in me when I found myself to be worthy of his complete touch. He waited 6 years so the boy had been through enough to be rewarded by my maiden's head breach.

God, it wasn't what I expected. I ached and squirmed but not out of pleasure. It hurt worse than getting kicked in the face. I struggled, asked for patience and found that he could choose not to hear me. And out of love, I bit my tongue and closed my eyes. Find a happy place. Find a happy place. Turns out the things I tried to forget from childhood resurface in the most familiar ways. Felt the same but different face. Smell of sweat and iron grip. I braced myself to keep the memory in and I managed.

After that it was no more than just a rip. Healing took faster with each ****** of desire he blessed me with. I know I sound like an idiot. Only because I was back then. I also cringe at who I was. Thinking of forever and the like. Blah blah blah. He filled me with more than just his light. Unknowingly accepting it. How could something as sturdy as latex tear? The mystery of the century.

Right around the time he lit up my first joint was about the time I came down with an illness...of sorts. His magic cure was herb. Helps with the nausea. I puffed and held like a champ. Never coughing and receiving the initiative background laugh. I was apart of his pack now. Who needs family anymore when you surround yourself with strangers with an itch and a twitch that can only subside with powders and pills? I could be one of them. Scars and bruises already proved me in.

They never saw a chick hit the way I did. I had the humor of a brother and the swing of a boxer. Perfect combination of a couple. He would show me like a bleeding trophy and I stood proud to be his. Until the sickness got worse. You could guess why. Took me by surprise when the *** stick sentenced me to impregnation. I remember being in shock but smiling none the less. Not even 18 yet and was going to have his namesake in my belly.

Still, I knew him well. Loved and accepted him all the same but...I knew how that game was played. I was pro choice, but loving the child too much to choose that alternative, I saved as much till as I could. I would make a break for it and tell no one. Nothing in my minor name so it'd be easy to leave without a trace. And telling him was already made clear as a bad decision. I would do what had to be done...run to have a chance with my son. I always knew he'd be a boy. Overjoyed and I named him prior to him fully growing. Dillon Quinn Lane. It was perfect for who I'd guide him to be in my imagination.

A month passed without showing and my bank account looked less empty. Downsizing slowly the belongings I had to make the extra cents rise a little without doing the same with my parents suspicion. Or his. Kept my distance as much as I could considering the life I had been recently welcomed to. Confided in one person...it should have been less than that. Word travels fast but I didn't give blunt details and I was safe in saying maybe and not definite. The one I loved wouldn't have any part of it and I would ask for nothing. Turned out his fear started to churn to reclaim his youth before I'd steal it away.

Confronted. Denying and screaming louder with each pulse of sound. He suspects my womb to have opened for vacancy and I show him my ******* in response. That's all the answer he needed without a solid statement from my end of things. A fist to the gut....
No...
Hunched over, cradling who was too small to cradle. Too blind with tears to see the stairwell. He nudge and gravity did the rest. Classic miscarriage. I guess we went as far as we could go in this relationship. I thought quietly at the bottom of those steps.

Afterwards, I gave myself permission to lose my mind. Joined the **** life for fun but now I lived it to die. Tried anything I could get my hands on and grieved numb. Small stretch marks left behind from my little one...he left a small part of himself on me to love. Dillon Quinn. His conception was wanted by only one and I would loved him enough for 100 or more.

Every year around this time I think of him still. Curly hair? Crooked teeth or straight. Would have just turned 6. I now realize the life I wouldn't have been able to give and still I'm wishing and willing him to at least live. Reincarnate to others. Both a mother and father who loved him like no other child could fathom love. He would deserve it after what his previous parents had done. And now I'm too scared to even try again even on purpose. Feeling like I betray him when I don't speak his name aloud.

Clearly, I have some issues to steady out and stabilize. I'm a cynic now and most things I've done and seen no longer phase me to drama. I know who I am and I don't plan on becoming anyone different. Still, if you see a little boy like mine, tell him mommy says hi.
I use this site as a diary of sorts. Clears my head and keeps me from other things I could be doing. 7 years past a memory. Reoccurring but long gone. Sleepy phantom thoughts rise and I write. It's not going to change anything but if it's out of me maybe I'll sleep.
He from the motherland
And I a Yankee.
Towered over me
To have a peak.
Thought that I was well bred
Fourth generation white trash,
What was in his head?
Overseas for his highschool learning degree
And he cast his educated eyes on me.
Dabble in some fun, at least.
Tempted to see what would ferment
Plus, what girl could resist that British accent?
He was from an academy
Only the wealthy and upstanding could attend.
I from the public system
With their loud and boisterous trends.
Can't recall how we conversed at first
A friend of a friend
Classic verse.
All I recall is our first meeting
He was taller than what I was expecting.
Saw me and a smiled spread
Took my hand and then he lead.
Horror flick
Of course it was
Dark and close
No intentions lost on us.
We're just kids
There is no rush.
Hands were held
My hair he would occasionally smell.
I kept the Oder of a well baked good
And I sprayed too much
It filled the room.
Drive around
We found his house
Kissing scene
We already spent time talking months before meeting.
It wasn't that we didn't know each other
We just had yet to see the form of one another.
Privacy
We found some shudders
We weren't friends
Or lovers
Can't say that I liked him like a brother
His male intent was unlike the others.
From that day on
We'd hang around
Listening to songs.
Going for walks along
Starlit parking lots.
Two years younger than myself
It was a big deal and I felt
That his attention was a phase of his
When I told him that
He raged and said
"You don't know the way I love."
"You don't see how the other way girls are frauds"
"You think the rich and well to do
Automatically make us smarter than you?"
I didn't have a clue
Standing still in his surprising brood.
Didn't mean to cause offense
I thought I was just making light of it.
And hear his James Bond demeanor snap
Made me reconsider this lad.
Tried to give him solace
It failed
Retorted with
"Aren't you afraid of going to jail?"
My eyes had widened and I laughed
Had to high five him for that crack.
Took it back
Went to the normal way we'd interact.
Prom night on a subtle cruise
"The only one I want to go with is you"
How could I refuse?
Graduated a year before
But what the hell,
My prom ******
And he's hardly a bore.
Dressed up and got ready to go
Then I saw him in a tuxedo.
God save the ******* queen!
How did that find attraction to me?
Still one of my best memories
Of that British gentleman and me.
Never pushing past further than I said
Had those hormones in our heads
But never gave into them
Instead,
We used the back of his jeep to talk.
Of dreams, of songs
Of rights and wrongs
Of tales of who we wanted to be
And occasionally enjoying each other's company.
Turning moments into memories
Some of the best I'd ever seen.
One of the few guys to treat me decently.
One evening
While I was dreaming
I awoke to find my cell phone ringing.
The British were calling, the British were calling!
But this one in particular had been drinking.
Slurring but still sounding amazing.
As soon as I answered
He started proclaiming
"You don't have to say it back to me, but your the girl I find myself loving."
What to do with that.
How do I reply?
Told him to talk to me the next day
When he could see with sober light.
He happily complied
Not regretting a single line.
Didn't take it back and I
Resolved it to being fine.
There are worse things in life
Than being loved by this gentleman's kind.
Not saying that I didn't love him back
But I had demons crawling through these cracks.
Couldn't say out loud
In fact
I never said it all.
Did he hassle me about it?
No
Said his peace
And let it go.
Made ourselves at home
Whenever we were alone.
Adventures in the land of the free
Forgiving me alone for my ancestors dumping all his tea.
And I forgave his ancient monarchy
For not allowing my fore fathers practice faith freely.
Such comparability
Different lives still converging
Once he graduated then
It was time to go back to his motherland.
We both knew our time would end.
Having others in his hands
No fault of his
I let him have them.
The only reason he did, he say,
It's easier to leave them
I'd only make him want to stay.
Understanding
Let's be friends then
We always were,
Then again.
See you off
With your group of friends
Barnes and nobles
Last book binge.
Hug you tight
Walk away
Pull out my phone
Typing away,
"I love you, kid. I hope you don't stay away."
"I love you too, miss"
Replying in his British way.
Kept in touch
Reminisce on random days
My British gentleman
That got away.
Now I come far from that time
We still talk on occasionally lines.
Growing up
And staying fine.
I'm grateful I was exposed
To a gentleman at least one time.
listen to chopin and mahler
eat instant noodles
stitch your feelings away on an old pair of jeans
wear sunglasses
appreciate the fact that people like donatella versace have spent their lives creating clothes for people like me and you
rewatch the tigger movie
bake a whole cake and eat it yourself or go on the street and feed strangers
tell the ******* the bus purple definitely is her color
change your hairstyle
draw or scratch your anger away
call a distant friend
ask your little sister what her day was like
walk around your neighbourhood at 12 am and make up stories about what people are doing
embrace chocolate as your lord and savior
remind yourself you no longer look like you did in 6th grade
be grateful you have what you have and be grateful you don't have it as bad as some do
remember that every time you thought you couldn't go on, you did
understand that you don't need anybody to approve you
never forget that you have about 25 billion white blood cells in your body who are protecting you with their lives
be happy for that couple you saw in the park
pet any animal you see, animals are breathing antidepresants
get more sleep
don't say "it could be worse", this brings bad luck; but be glad it's not, after all
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