Pleading for routine
For the same breakfast from -
the same restaurant
The exact booth , the perfect
parking spot
2.5 miles home , waiting to leave
my vehicle till all traffic passed
Black coffee , orange juice , CNN
Triangular blue pill , folding work shirts
with no place to go ,
Closing blinds , cursing friends , letting
telephones ring
Writing verse , fighting guilt , planning my
next meal , crushing needed relief to
satisfy this ******* memory
Lighting creativity , forming complicated guitar
parts , locking doors* ...

I could fly like the Phoenix I'm supposed to be,
At cloud height, Cloud Nine, see everything
Were it not for the ropes that hold me down
Were it not for the bloodlust, torturous sounds
Were it not for the voices in my head
That sometimes make me wish I were dead

And maybe if I wasn't so critical
Or perhaps just a little less hypocritical
Were it not for the need to be OCPD
Straighten everything, as straight as can be

Checking my back because I'm paranoid,
That someone will appear, push me in the void
And I would swirl and spin, forever trapped
With all lights off, and no time to clap

That I would be that man, the one in black
Who would self-indulge in a self-aimed attack
Who would one day slit an artery, and just lay there
And with open eyes, unseeing, continue to stare

Glaring at the world that held him down
Glaring at the grey sky that never helped him out
Angry in death at those who tormented him, bullies
Maybe I could fly were it not for these,

Things

We stand in twilight hues...
Fingers consciously entwined in a clasp.
We speak without vocals
that crescendo between sighs and gasps.

We anticipate...
But we do not look forward...
Not to the promise of freedom and salvation.
More so the uncertainty
that resonate with the *****
of feathered morning birds.

The unknown scares us so.
We know not of what lurks,
in the impending light of day.
We simply bide the ticking seconds...
As we scramble for the right words to say.

When there needn't be such uncomfortable silence.
No need for an awkward stance.
For we've embraced the melody,
memorised the lyrics
and rehearsed the dance.

Yet...
We hesitate...
Even though we've decided that we must.
For what shadow that looms agape below us,
hurling threats of swallowing us whole,
will soon be warded off...
As quick as the errant gust.

The darkness...
Will soon be cast behind our backs.
And all would be committed to memory
as surely as it had begun.
It would dissipate as it would stretch far...
But only if we turn to face the dawning sun.

You call this art,
My constant need to write things out
For better understanding, to map them
Out on pages covered in watercolor
Paintings, my use of anything I can get
My hands on to create something
And you look at me in amazement
When I show you what I have done,
When I show you how I took all of my
Emotions and turned them into
Projects that some may find beautiful
But you don’t see the pain behind
Every word I type and each stroke
Of my paint brush or each eraser mark
Littered on illustrations I try to complete
And you don’t see that I try to mend
My broken heart with artwork so it no
Longer bleeds, this papier-mâché
Creation is all that I have that keeps me
Pieced together and
Sound of mind
And you look at me in amazement
And call it art
When really it’s just my attempt
At surviving.

By Arcassin Burnham

In all seriousness I've became what I was
Afraid of being in the beginning,
Was never in the line of winning,
Been a loser all my life while making
Choices that create the bad moments,
That I Almost forgot about sinning,
In all seriousness, I'm starting realize that
Life and love is shorter than our fingertips
That reach the stars whenever we need
Jesus,
And they say "you're very blunt aren't you?"
And I say well take a walk in my shoes
Theres nothing worse than fresh Cuts,

/

I could die a thousand deaths but at my own
Expense,
Gotta pay the price to make it right with Moses again,
There will always be some recarnation of anything that you fear or you
Cherished while your life was at the beginning stages playing
Constant melodies and buying into propaganda,
Lines are being crossed for taking everything you stand for with a set
Of hands and a heavy heart who has ya',
So listen to the paster cause he knows the trials that come with living,
Giving you obstacles and lower pensions,
There's no God like the god I know that is based on ascension,
Death only settles the score not a cost of extension.

The taste of your mouth
it exploded, salt bright
upon my lips and I fell
reckless, haphazard
as the night was - of shooting stars
blushed, bright flashed, gleaming.
I fell, the thump and tumbling
of hearts, by the moon, love spun.
Your arms, bands of gold, bronze
gathered me - each part
like stars, one by one.

This is for the ones who suffer..
We all suffer..
I guess what I'm tryna say is..
This for all of us,
Here we go!

He gets up, another day,
Another laid to waste
Procrastination is the game
Doesn't know the word haste

He looks around, the sights he sees makes him so upset
He's just hoping that someday, he might forget
So that he can rest peacefully, for he never rests easily
When he gets shoved around, smacked down, so unequally treated

Hated for the way he walks, the way he looks, his voice
If it was all left to him, if he had a choice
He'd change it all, because he can't change the world
Something he's discovered, no matter how he yelled

People don't change, they can only adapt
Adaptation across the nation or else get bashed
Fragile and broken lay the pieces of him
So with renewed energy, unleashed the demon within

Now he's angry, upset because he knows the truth
Even though technically he's just a youth
A world that has ****** him since his birth
Now he's cracking down on others making them eat dirt

And taste the bitterness and the blood in their mouth
Words don't do anything, his only option this route
Regrettable as it seems, it's the only way
That he can go to sleep at the end of the day

We suffer at the hands of those who suffered
Suffering on repeat, no opportunity offered
We take offence, take the hits and dish them out ourselves
No us, we or team, just Me and Myself

She feels down, feels stressed but she figures it's just school
However, not the case, treated like a fool
Tossed around, used up, like a rusty tool
Breaking down inside, but the façade must rule

Never show emotion, because it will break you down
Pain makes others laugh so crazy, like a circus clown
Insane in the membrane, but pain's the game
If you don't try to change it, it'll stay the same

She wants to be successful, and get a job
But it's hard when you can't focus, she's feeling robbed
Opportunity passes by, cruising like a ship
But bullies anchor her down, she can't deal with it

So she turns to the mirror, and asks herself, "Why?"
"I wanna be myself but whenever I try...."
She can't finish the sentence, the blade didn't miss
How's she gonna tell her Mum her wrists are slit?

Angry red lines like the rage inside
Finally she let it out and it made her cry
Cruelty to misfits in a world like this
The pain overwhelms her, and a tear does slip

Splashes on the floor, a diamond speck
Thinking she is so ugly, another reject
Across the street, on his feet, he thinks he suffers alone
Head down, small frown, puzzled he doesn't know

Their situations are similar though not alike
He cuts himself too, sometimes, when he feels so like
The demon within, they both got demons to face
But either way, they still suffer, no matter how hard you pray

We suffer at the hands of those who suffered
Suffering on repeat, no opportunity offered
We take offence, take the hits and dish them out ourselves
No us, we or team, just Me and Myself

We suffer..
We suffer..
Procrastination across the faces and pains the game
If you don't try to change, it'll stay the same

We suffer...
We suffer....
They look in the mirror and question life
Later realise they can reach the sky

We suffer