By Arcassin Burnham


Seeing darker days like lonely nights and raw fists fights and chaos
happen all in one day and at a time,
We were vulnerable with less money to spend and dine ourselves to
perfect things that would've made it alright,

What is the right place to us?
My Ex was a succubus,
i swear anytime i could have made it out..

My mom would lock me away,
because of thoughts and anger issues,
but she didn't talk to me , she just doubts..

Remembering my grandpa had a stroke in front of me and i couldn't
do anything in that situation,
And then one night my step grandpa was on the brink of death with
so any tubes in his mouth , i was in devastation..

so,
tell me what is the right place...

hmm,
maybe in heaven we're safe..


can you tell me?

please tell me,
What is the right place to us?
My Ex was a succubus,
i swear anytime i could have made it out..

My mom would lock me away,
because of thoughts and anger issues,
but she didn't talk to me , she just doubts..

Sunday morning lie-in,
she, ny times newspaper reading,
contentedly dress perusing-shopping,
in the bed both, but separated
by the distance of the electronic void

i am raven tapping poe poems on my diminutive IPhone,
twenty four inches distant from her lips

no notice taken of the man so overcome
writing his Sunday morn poems that are
drawn so deep from places
that make him so so so glad
good quality weeping
can be best performed silently

noticing that

- he writes best when writing of others, mostly, you

- he writes when the rented invisibility cloak covers his face
and
the wellspring offers him a choice;
write weep and tear
or
write weep and bawl
or just quit everything

whimsy laughs at his slo 'mo nonsense
his choices
this tough guy supporting a mountain of others,
the inversion of his inverted triangle,
him holding up the world

the worrisome grief that wears him down
best released in tears when writing about
you, go figger

and you notice stupid stuff
like why we use 'and' when it just ain't necesssry
how the core of 'believe' is lie
that ** ** ** rhymes with woe woe woe
and
that 24 inches is quite the distance when you are
** ** ** weeping and she don't notice

and how hard writing

only love poetry can be
even twenty four inches
from your nose