Reality is what separates the real me and what you see
Reality is what we call it
but how come we can never be real in this world we call reality?
In order to survive reality
we must change, conform to the standards set by this "reality"
we must hide the "real" us. Lock it up inside the box we call the mind
The real me only now exist in an imaginary world made by my mind
Facing reality another persona is created
A fake who lives in Reality
Someone who is kind hearted and good.
Always pleasing people.
Praisng the one's higher in heirarchy.
Never forgets good manners
Always says thank you
when the "me" inside my mind just shouts out
"*******"

Reality is what separates the real me and what you see

It's driving me mad
I can't sleep and I can't read
Or knit to music
Or anything, and I'm done
I've had enough of it all.

Confined in close quarters
begging for quarantine
love tastes like carrion

Breathing mold spores
appeals more than
the kiss of a dying heart

For to taint joy
with the stink of decay
haunts honesty with living lies

A heavy heart
cannot power the light
that fuels a soul

...
This morning:

The quiet bleeds when you're not looking.
i did not know that the quiet could bleed.

Depression enters my room,
the garden wails in protest, death kisses my stomach,
Sadness whispers that she will not take my chalk outline and teach it how to walk today.
Today the sun stops working.

My mother buries
whatever slowly died in me
under the duvet.

Last night:

i guess,
anything can be a gun
if the darkness surrounding it
is hungry enough

i don't know how i make it to his bathroom
in time, but i can already feel the autopsies
they will preform on me;

i tame ugly screams beneath it all,
tell myselff it's not suicide if
love hangs in my mouth.

The other day:

"i have no sympathy"
"if it's killing you, then why are you still with him"

This particular stain of anger never quite
reaches my reflection in the mirror.
But it sets my clothes on fire.
All the same,
i seethe endlessly; and slit the throat of forgiveness so
it is not an option i could consider.

My father wakes up inside of me sometimes;
i am not afraid to be
a weapon in which i was designed,
a nuclear war in which i will return home from.

A while ago:

"you need to figure things out between just the two of you, none of your girl friends should be threatening my baby boy"
"i would have married a man i didn't love..."

for the love of GOD---

To ALL the adults who have tasted false wisdom
and wish to share it with me;
do not speak to me as if you could translate my suffering
for me, you do not look like a ghost to me,
do not treat me like i do not know that trauma is a thief to my innocence, you do not look like a victim to me,
do not ******* tell me that i am to contain myself to your benefit, because you know nothing but the way my name tastes on your lips,

i will
paint targetson your back,
with your own words--
and i will feed you to
the bullet feast when you least
expect it.

Don't patronize me with your ignorance disguised as watercolors.

Later tonight:

A little like all at once,
all over the world,
i fall out of love with you.

i used to baptize myself in
the things my phoenix would whisper to me,
all his solids and shadows
oh, the world was so beautiful in his eyes.

And how i wish there was a softer metaphor
that could lower me into this grief,
cause isn't heaven heavy enough,
isn't this hurting plenty?

Now:

i don't know how to describe the aftermath
other than----

"there is just a lonely hum in my mind
where my name used to be."

I never knew why standing on a balcony was so unnerving—
Why driving across a bridge,
Or around a mountain with only a short railing,
Made me question reality and life itself.

Tucking me in that night before you went home,
When we talked for an hour about Agency and Free Will,
Before you finally kissed me and left me to think in the dark:
My eyes were open wide as I learned that feeling's name.

"It's like how I could scream, right now?" I asked
And you nodded, "But something keeps you from doing it."
"I don't want to wake up Mom," I laughed.
He smiled and said, "And it would hurt my ears if you did."

Then a conversation later, after you blew a kiss
You turned out the light, and I lay in the dark.
I could jump out my window right now, I thought.
There's nothing physically stopping me.~

If there's a word that you're holding back, say it.
If there's advice in your brain, let it out.
And if anything helps, then I'll take it;
But no man can assuage all my doubt.

I doubt that I'll ever quite make it:
I doubt that my dreams will come true.
I doubt night and day, but I fake it
In case they start doubting me too.

I don't think I can catch my breath now,
I doubt that this air will be clean;
Don't know if I'm close to my death now,
But alive? I just feel in between.

Come and steal away all of my guilt now
Make me sigh and admit I was wrong
For of all of the things my mind's built now
I distrusted self-doubt all along.

By Arcassin Burnham

...And still today I'm sitting in my own personal
Hell awaiting your touch blazed in a firey mist of
******* of my list of mistakes that I've dealt with
Cause life's what I made it out to be, turning the
Other cheek to every situation that follows me,
Reflecting the doubts and opinions that creep with
Ease,
I see beauty in every direction and corner that forms
A sense of freedom for all of us to share running
Through the trees,

/

The witches brew running all over your skin,
Mixing up the potion just to settle world's end,
I wish we could have made it a lot better then,
We're at ground zero and there's really no defense.

My gut reaction remains the same
shade of grey I remember finger painting yesterday.
The smears cloak my fingerprints
like manuscripts of the negative.
Sharp enough to break through the holiest of sentiments.
It's night two in the dark alone when I call on the ghosts.
Exercise the demons so I may leave the couch at once and turn the lamp on.
Warm bodies approach- blurred yet familiar- radiating only eyes.
Dull and full of assumptions.
I can't respond.
I reach out and watch as effort manifests as motionless limbs again.
Now, my eyes neither open nor closed, identify nothing.
My hands, palms dripping a simple shade of gloom I've come to embrace, greet my brow.
Grey sweat covers this grey reflection and these paintbrush arms I own just want to get up and live.
In color again.

by Arcassin Burnham


If trust is highly cautious nowadays then i should really stop the act,
if fake is fake and real is real then please don't let the opposites attract,
people wanting more than friends that care about themselves and then turn their backs,
but i just need a friend that would be as loyal as the **** on a camels back,
so why don't you just,
spare me the pity and,
fall out the back door with,
too many colors of,
your true intentions its,
not my fault that i'm just,
one of the good ones yes,
one of the true ones yes,
one of the loyal ones yes...

but from you i need more assurance yes,


Dealt with more fake people than the great wall had intruders that attacked,
In these days i'd rather be alone in this room writing all a bunch of facts,
To a man that has no reputation piercing through the traffic for a crash,
to have a friend would be delightful but people always leave and never come back,
so why don't you just,
spare me the pity and,
fall out the back door with,
too many colors of,
your true intentions its,
not my fault that i'm just,
one of the good ones yes,
one of the true ones yes,
one of the loyal ones yes...

but from you i need more assurance yes.