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3 years ago,
In the city of chaos
when i was alone.
Trapped with lies,
in the cage of life.
Living so low,
Always find ways to get high.
So young of me,
With smaller the vision,
Just believed in fairies,
And prince of paradise.
There was cold in summers,
And autumn in spring.
Night so black,
Hiding all the shine of bright life.
I left the city of chaos,
With the chaos still within.
This was my experience of first time living in hostel during graduation. That journey was full of lessons ,very hard and challenging one. Not only i grow and become adult there but learnt about the strength hiding within.
Heera 3d
A year ago,
We couldn't stop talking..

And look at now,
You don't have anything to say to me..
Not even i miss you!
It hurts...to lose a friend
I don’t know who I am anymore.
I look in the mirror and don’t recognize whoever is staring back.
I don’t remember the last time I saw myself there.
It must’ve been a long time ago.
I keep asking “what have you done with me?”
Or “what have you done with him?”
But I only get a question for an answer.
Somewhere in my travels, somewhere along the way.
Me and myself stopped, and I guess I decided to stay.
So please help me find him if you could,
I only know the name, I just can’t remember the face.
None
girl gonzo Sep 30
silk blouses and cotton underwear
the nights merge into a sticky soup that falls into the pocket of a sweater i was wearing when they said that death is permanent
the voice echoing into the receiver of my first cell phone
the wavering tremble of someone in the middle of realms
sleep and consciousness turning the other side of the pillow
wondering if the smoke in my lungs felt comfortable
wonder if the moon sinks lower into your backyard
i was never good at distinguishing shadows and when i found myself on the dark side of the mattress;
my feet cold and feeble i wondered if you could hear my heart a thousand miles away
the fluttering of a drowsy bird, lethargically dragging it's clumsy wings into the plummeting stifle of open air
you said my lips were like the halves of a plum
i bit them until they bled but it was never as sweet
it was never as sweet
there's irony in the title
Arcassin B Sep 17
By Arcassin Burnham

Possibly in a dire situation I can up and fill a void
passing out at every lie and joke you ever told
when the good times go , they go and never leave your head
but that was so long ago,
memories are dead,
we used to kiss and we used to touch and we used to fear The Break-Up,
pausing that every mere chaos burning inside my soul
for I was never the one to cause the problem, here just behold,
dead memories come back to haunt and love,
they fade almost instantly like a flock of doves,
I'm too good to be in parties or clubs,
when I had my ex I wasn't even a scrub,
they were a waste of time so I gave up.

Why I do always choose wrong?
Why I do I give some of my love to have them
give it back?
Why did I always choose the wrong race?
To build a family and make a new life with,
Why I do always choose wrong?
Why I do I give some of my love to have them
give it back?
Why did I always choose the wrong race?
To build a family and make a new life with.
©abpoetry2018

https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2018/09/what-you-left-with.html
exist Aug 25
i hope videos of me
pop up in your one year ago
memories on snapchat
and i hope they pull at your heart
like they do to me
Long Time Ago
Long Time Ago
Long Time Ago
Long Time Ago

I miss you
I miss you
I miss you
I miss you

Im so tired
Im so tired
Im so tired
Im so tired without you

Ohh devil world
Ohh devil world
Long Time Ago
Long Time Ago


2017
lilheathen Jun 22
I believe in the Sun even when it isn’t shining
I believe in Love even when I am alone
I believe in Happiness even when the world is crying
I believe in the Lord even when it seems I’m on my own
I believe in tomorrow even when I feel like tonight will never end
I believe in all these things because they always come back again
For every dark night, there’s an even brighter day
For every hollow path is a more fulfilling way
In every dark cloud, you can find a silver lining
So I keep my faith, and my faith keeps me grinding
Against the icy metal, like the rose that grew
From concrete, with its scratched and hardened petals
When no one in the world was here to love me
I held my head to the sky above me
And I was happy because I kept my faith
Gray Jun 18
What would happen if i suddenly got up and left you?
If i did so i might never return and basically start anew.

I never liked being around when you were.
You would always mock me and her.

Maybe when I’m gone you’ll realize that we actually mattered.
And if you decide to not don’t worry our worlds have already once been shattered.

In a couple years we might run back into each other again,
But let’s not worry about that until that happens then.
Congressman and senators forewent
all manner of civility, fidelity and integrity wii
hull ding broadswords, derringers
and exhibiting the right to bare firearms
as all **** broke loose as testimony
to the dire prognostication foretold

more than saber rattling and Gatling guns que
kind from lambastes, fisticuffs
and brickbats ratcheted up as agents provocateurs nee
said obedience to semper fidelis credo, coda and **** knee
stance when dire straits called for restraint

against excess versus raising cane old hickory
i.e. Andrew Jackson latched onto when opposing with energy
plus verve espoused by fellow delegates,
and his hologram ghost ******

from battle scars outside and/or inside
the halls of government where blows bashed
dovetailed elected legislators to officiate
as angry birds viz brouhaha clashed
Federalist against their nemesis

of the twenty first century
during the term of Donald Trump
who throve on the cutthroat frenzied
internecine lawlessness dashed
to and fro, hither and yon

any hopelessness for civilians to escape bloodshed
spilled from without vaunted halls of justice,
the approach of doomsday
writ large as anarchy and mayhem flashed
with uproarious coup d’etat,

when Democrats outliers gnashed
teeth, and nonestablishmentarian outlaws
pistol whipped and hashed
tagged traitors who roared America
went bankrupt at sold at fire sale price slashed

when Donald Trump ran the country
into the ground evidenced by Molotov Cocktails residue
in concert with the sulfuric odor of hand grenades trashed
like some sorority or fraternity house
left the sanctified righteous West Wing

with powder puffs sans canisters
of pepper spray, whereby
most docile, humble, and liberal took a page
from playbook of Pandora, and took an aimless swing
at the root cause of melee by hurling objet’s d’art

at the pompous trump ping
Septuagenarian, whose platoons of goons
rent asunder peoples against their king
the donnybrook heathen, whose remarks
against libertarian rubric that made America great

wantonly soup peer egg go whist tickly
reviving prejudices declared dead
from yesteryear and his attempt to bring
back the glory days, when Whistler Blowers
getting water boarded and aching

deigning to implement dictatorship
of the Proletariat as a capital idée fix
weaving together, the salient strengths
viz founding fathers credo gave licks
to King George, and now in an ironic

twist and shout of fate through eclectic mix
basket of deplorables further shamed
by being routed by the New York Nicks
sewed jaws, heads of state, and dignitaries

with limping bodies spent like derricks
Oil used up and no place to go except
to keep Alice in Chains and
Alice Cooper Company with toys in the attics.
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