By Arcassin Burnham




we could talk,
and we'd conversate,
a beautiful disaster struck,
in the words we write to each other,
and with each passing hour,
we collied with one another,
long hair that will be engraved forever,
as something as lovely as that,
we all can not stand the weather,
or can't you stand the rain,
don't you feel the love and pain,
when dreads swing.

If the world revolved around you,
injustice, insufficiency, and insolence
would get stuck in your dreads.

© Matthew Harlovic

After Danez Smith's Dinosaurs in the Hood

Let's make a movie called *Lil Peep In Heaven
Transpotting meets 8 Mile meets six xanax bars
There should be a scene where Lil Peep climbs up a few flights of Stairs and makes it to the pearly gates, because there has to be pearly Gates

Don't let Bella Thorne star in this.
In her version she tongue-kisses Peep,
Chews scenery in platform boots and bright pink
Ripped jeans. **** that, Peep has a tattoo removed
By a saint, his laser is proof of all that is good

I want a scene where Peep throws his pill bottles
At Ganesha, a scene where Allah tells Peep he'll
Rot in his grave forever if he doesn't stop
His antics. Don't let GothBoiClique hold a
Funeral for Gustav. I don't want any of that

Sentimental **** about love and how life is too
Short. This movie is about a man/boytoy/ugly and dying thing,
Restarting his life with all the real-*** gods and patron saints and
Deities
Of every religion and every afterlife

I don't want some funny, dreadhead living in LA with a tattooed stick And poke commanding presence. This is not a vehicle for someone to Play Peep, this is a vehicle for Peep to play himself.]
I want his *******, white or not, praying. I want them far from their Knees.

I want Lil Peep to ride in a Benz truck down from the clouds, Screaming with spittle flying from his mouth the entire time.
I want Layla to post another video of Gustav slapping pans together Like a child. And I want Peep to see it all.

But this can't be a death movie. This can't be a death movie. This Movie can't be dismissed because it's too dark, or that a dead man is Playing the leading role. This movie can't be about crying, or cause people to cry. This movie can't be about a long history of emo coming To an end. This movie can't be about dying.

No one can say Peep is a pill-popping ******* who deserved his death Who wouldn't say it to his cadaver. No big pharmacy jokes in this movie. No bar, capsules or gels in the heroes, and Lil Peep never dies & Lil Peep never dies & Lil Peep never dies. Besides, the only reason I want to make this movie is for the first scene anyway; Lil Peep climbing up the cloudy stairs, his eyes dilated & empty

                                   the heaven before him filled with congratulations

You carry me
to the deepest shores
of sexuality,
to the sunshine
that brightens my soul
with the light
of your glorious being,
feeling the air
of aromatic magic
entering me,
basking in your motion
and masculine poetry.

I was so addicted
to everything spinning
inside your dimension,
stuck in an exhilarating trance,
ready to be romanced
by your dreadhead dopeness,
drowning in these thoughts
of your dancing supremeness,
lost in the milky sweetness
of your treasurable physique.

Your eloquence took me
deeper inside your naked innocence,
the passionate syllables
of your aphrodisiac song,
tasting your rock-hard metaphors
inside my throat,
luxuriating in the overdose
of your hot climaxes,
falling further inside your perfect vowels,
swallowing your carnal prose every hour,
promising to never deviate
from your intoxicating place.

I look at you, and I feel so rapt,
entrapped in your dreadhead wonderland,
your delicious, chocolaty flesh,
your suave style, so blessed and fresh,
so fine as ****, a safe place to escape,
all tall, solid, and voluptuous,
black opal eyes, warm brown lips,
a distinguished beard, a beaming smile
that makes my heart go wild,
so covetable, everything to me.

He’s such a dope dreadhead
drenched in litty drip,
**** *** chocolate
that melts like butter
on my lips,
drinking his voluptuousness,
letting his memories
linger in my shimmery stream
as I feen for more of his deliciousness.