There's a place that I go
back to-
and it's a garden,
filled with flowers

  and it's somewhere in the Northwest
   where the forest moths and stretching firs
wait quietly for showers

it's there
where Monarchs
    gather in
       kaleidoscopes

and my densely swollen shadow
   next to piercing sun
   elopes

There's a place that I go
          back to
where the plague of
  dreams engulfs me

and it's at the end
of a nestled street
  I find a
    fever that exults
me.

I see old friends going on with their lives.
Having kids, some party, others husbands and wives.
Here I sit, reminiscing, can't forget how far I've
Grown from everyone I've ever known.

Time, it slips from open fists.
My mark on the world, a dusty to-do list.
I stand on the edge of a growing distance,
.......................................................­..........

The only one
That can turn an overwhelming moment
Into a lovely memory

By Arcassin Burnham

To find a perfect love in someone else's arms
And finding the courage to intrude,
Don't fall into a thorn bush , the sharpness of
It all might get into you,
Bleed the blood of a man who wants to know where the beauty originated and confirm the most vital information to finding bliss in these woods,
Not enough love in the world to help a sick
Person,
Or a cancer patient,
Or a dying family member,
The rose dies in the end anyway,
There's no use for the sad songs or pianos that play almost frequently when there's something bad happening,
It feeds on the eternal struggle,

don't get a cut.

He doesn't see
Her as an angel
The one she used to be
He see's her true colors
A false rainbow she tries to be

My heart
has cracked open
like the most
fragile of
elusive
eggs
viscous fluid
drips d
            own
upon the plate
filled with
fissures,
spidercracks that
threat to
quake into
seismic
         measures
and eventually
piece off into
oblivion
and only when
I can finally
unfold myself
from these
underwater
embryonic bends
fetal stretches
and folds
that never end
only then my arms
reach out
into the night
searching
and,
in tiniest of beams,
in one fell stroke
of midnight kismet
I find you
around me
in colored chromium
wrapping me up
headstrong,
filling my
wounded sutures
with
     liquid
gold

That's the beauty of life
Sometimes you detoriate and die
Sometimes you thrive

this is an ending

i'm dancing to my swan song
in a room of unlit candles

restless shadows dance despite the
absence of hollowed light

i am so alone yet not
abandoned

my spirit is still
but my body is crying

for my aching heart that is
tired of dying

the californian ******* will keep me up
but i can't keep up with this bluff

oh i am drunk on your spirit
spiritdrunk, spiritdrunk, spiritdrunk