I stood, unseen, as the lights faltered and
I heard a heavy thud. A wave rushed through
me. My friend, out of reach, disappeared. Vapour.
The ceiling was gone - stars, stars. I couldn't
feel anything, it was all normal. Then,
the vomit came. It burned all down my throat
into my stomach, bitter bile tearing
me apart from the inside out. I couldn't
walk. Local hospital, apparently
I had a 50/50 chance. They filmed
me for evidence and I killed them in
the process. Cancerous. I was shipped to
Moscow, my wife being left in the dark.
Confidential. Contagious. Dangerous.
The ones who died were lucky, we were burning
alive from the inside out. My hair fell
from my body. My skin wept after the
false calm of nothingness. The dead skin fell
off in clouds of black dust, my flesh being
eaten and turning a violet black.
I can never have sex again, in case
I contaminate my wife. No more children.
Chromosonal damage. She was afraid
to touch me when I saw her again in
case she would die too. My skin will weep forever
and they call me one of the lucky ones.
I love when people,
think they can do no wrong.
Think they're in charge,
of everyone else's fate.
Hurt just feel
a sense of superiority.
when you play with fire,
you will get burned.
And if you play with a rose,
you will get the thorns.
By Arcassin Burnham
Unnecessary tragedies that happen to the world,
A daily dose for every little boy and girl,
Your catholic family don't support the swirl,
steal a chain and kill a guy but they dust your pearls,
In a teenage story its obvious to see,
a young girl could have a child unexpectedly,
the guys an asshole and wants to take a test,
but you know the child is yours so let it be,
Like the Beatles song singing to a cruel world,
Should be a daily dose for every boy and girl,
Instead you wanna stay in the house on the couch with your
phone waiting as the world turns,
Instead you wanna blame everyone for mistakes in life even
when the world burns,
selfish is selfish don't give it concern.
You have hands of fire.
They dance and flicker and dodge
and when they touch mine,
I feel them burn with a deep passion
and see dark moments
where your fingertips linger
on my cheek, drying my tears
without a word.
You'll pull me close to you,
swift as a firefly,
and those hands will burn
on my back, my shoulders,
traces of ash being swept
along my skin.
You'll look at me with vertigo eyes
and hold my face in your burning hands.
Pungent coffee stains with the magnificent for company,
I spill a drop in a background of shiny metals creating an orchestral symphony.
Sitting in the boulevard I chase words into poetry,
Alongside the parades of chaos singing a different symmetry.
I write of sunsets, birds, kisses and seas,
I even write about branches on broken trees;
Of tales where the hero is the villain,
and those who felt pain in dol multipled them a trillion.
Of lonesome characters that wrote letters of love,
they even defied their gods above.
It was his eyes that made me drink black coffee,
no sugar, no cream, not even toffee.
Deep, dark and bitter was the way he was;
I even went to ‘Home Bakery’ just because.
Decoctions of coffee comforted my freezing moments,
heartbreak came to me in brief installments.
Like most of my men with no names,
my heart burned without any flames.
I love him like I love my coffee,
and you must believe me when I say
I will perish like the aroma of the first brew.
Let's burn the paper roses which I hang
from this chandelier of falsity together.
Cradling the ash in our hands and laughing
as we dance together in the strange
light which comes from nowhere, we can be free.
This place has a glow which comes only
from you; without you, my tiny room is dark
and cold and my breath shatters the silence
with droplets of ice and blood.