they say
sad could be a drug
but that's a lie
it's happiness people try to find
to try and get high
trying to find bliss
amidst the grey
drinking in hits
stems twist and sway
the dark, cold morning of May
where i
that's when i didn't want to
stay alive
not anymore, no
there, began the end of my show
shoes slapping the ground.
head low
sky was clouded, so i couldn't look up
for fear i'd get a raindrop in my eye
for fear the crow would see me cry
for fear i would be exposed to a foe
so head down, breath held, i go

yeah,
life has a knack of
ripping away all you've got
tearing you apart
thread by thread
seam to seam
this is far more than a crushed dream
this is heartbreak
this is loss
this is the will to live, gone
the loss of a home

the stars are cold
the air frigid

dying alone, corona

by Arcassin Burnham

peace out to the fellas, peace out to the ladies,
that think life might be crazy,
while carrying dreams under wings in a life so
unseen but their ways that they claim to portray
in their own grief,
angels sing so loudly to commute these events weather if
you're a sinner or just praying,
I'm just saying,
you don't have to gravitate or give in to the
words that I'm saying,
seeing the era of my ways would motivate,
but you're just playing, yourself,
bring my peace to the table , allow you to snack,
but it got cold , and your excuses for dying
got tired and old, you must enjoy that,
but things get gone,
friendships break up,
family isolates,
and you're all alone,
heading back to square one.

when your lucks run out,
everything gets cold,
promises broken,
and so is the mold,
heading back to square one.


©abpoetry2020