someguy 6h
Here in the darkness I lie alone
Letting her raven wings cover my ******,
Her gloomy and dreadful mystery runs through my veins,
As I slowly become one with her.

Time goes by, I’ve already fallen into the abyss,
Immersed with its darkness, my soul has been obliterated by it
Blind, deaf and emotionless, I’m fine with it
Since it’s warm and peaceful inside it, like in mothers’ belly.

But what is this?.. a light?
Haven’t seen it in years, decades of time
It burns my eyes, it kills me,
And though some say light is a savior,
For me it was just a destroyer.
by Arcassin Burnham

Laced with my ambitions mixed with motivations and a teenage life that was forsaken like a
Frankenstein as a fail creation to the family members I thought would've had  my back though all
The troubles but they are the troubles in a world so potent to mind controlling and self-
Absorbing in breaking a focused Lord that only wants the best for all his children but the system
Says otherwise to prized possessions like peace in America where they spike what you eat and
Make a profit off the weak,
Blacks in America can't be leaders without corruption and greed and every step you take is
Mostly a bullet or on your knees especially desensitizing all the people to the wrong things in life
that'll make you **** just for some bling bringing kids and teens in hospitals to be adopted into
Worse families is the trade where money is the seed amplifying what you need collecting checks
Off of kids you don't need pinching the poor and defenseless to meet all demands thinking why
Is it that *** doesn't take a stand.
©abpoetry2018

https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2018/10/leave-troubles.html
Blake 3d
Mother
Mother
These words I always hear
Mother please turn your ear
Listen to my story
Mother
Hear of my good glory
Of when I killed the butchers boy
When he took my favorite toy
The wooden horse of maple tree
The one to which you gave to me
Mother see
He fell from that tree
And that tool in his hair
See I put it there
And he weighed like a ram
Mother
See how strong I am
May I sit in your lap
Will we buy a new cap
Can I have some more bread
Will you pat my head
Mother
Why
Why do you cry
You look so confused
Are you not amused
Mother see
I got back my own toy
Am I not
Your favorite little boy
Bullet 4d
Pointing
the Gun
At You

Point
Blank Range
With it too

A Score
Driving with
A 0 to a 60
Ball Limits
Compared
With the
Ball Point

Pen I just
Shot a Brain
I Might've Just
Shocked a Brain

Pending a Life
That I Just Took
I Handed You a Shook
Behind a Silver Lining

A Scuff on the Ink
Written In Red
What Do You Think
Have I Fallen of The Edge

Pulled the Trigger
But Have I Killed
My Opposer or
Another Bullet
Pointed at My Prospect  

Pulped Or Have I Put an End
Too All These Bullet Holes In The Head
Live for today
and forget yesterday
because its dead
but today isn't
its perfect for
killing the game.
Is death the final option?
the only option,
other than crippling depression?
Just listen to me,
you can hear me I promise
but not understand.
That's what pushes me,
not understanding.
I don't want love anywhere else
just here,
but I need you to understand
my life depends on it.
Esther Oct 5
I offer you my apologies, Esther
for I had to **** her.
She was a poet, you see,
and she was consuming you,
corrupting you,
turning you inside out,
b a c k w a r d s
so that
when you screamed,
your mouth let loose a torrent of letters that sprayed the walls in ink, left them soaked for days
and when you cried,
your eyes wept love letters in Shakespearean verse and suicide notes in Hemingway prose
and when you sang,
you did so sporadically, your voice breaking—into irregular cadence and—rhythm—in the middle—of your—sentences—
and when you were silent
it was because you were too busy pleasing her, dreaming up things that didn’t exist, obsessing over some poem that wouldn’t let you sleep.
And so I had to save you, Esther
she was turning you into a poet, you see,
and I had to save you.
I’d offer you my condolences
but I doubt you’d take them
after I wrapped your poem around her neck
and tore out her inky guts
and gouged out her sleepless eyes
and shoved her under my bed
so that I could smell her carcass as I slept
and know you were saved.
So I offer you my apologies, Esther,
for I had to **** her.
She was a poet, you see, and she was killing you.
Man sin greed
has not only polluted heart but the rivers seas ocean causing a serious decline of wildlife.
Destroying the planet with there man made materials.
Time for the world to act now..
Before it back fires and begins to affect our food our health.
madyson shaye Sep 29
It’s 1:10 in the morning and I feel like going on a walk. I’m not going to because I have a ****** which makes walking around at 1:10 in the morning while living on Alvernon pretty dangerous, but I want to. I want to think about my life outside of you, and right now that feels insanely possible. My ******* have been **** lately and it’s because of you, you’re messing with my ******* psyche I can’t even *** correctly. I need another job and a new ******* and probably a cuter apartment and I need to get the **** away from you. You’re seriously draining every good part of me (a couple nights ago, you and your best friend tried to teach me to be mean because apparently I’m too soft and sweet) (IM LITERALLY NOT EVEN NICE, YOURE JUST A DEMON), but I can’t get away. I can’t stop. Is it because my life is so insanely boring and uninspiring that even feeling ****** around you is better than just feeling nothing? Can we chalk this up to me using you?
I want to walk and decide to use you. Use you for a place to crash, plans, free drinks, a hand to hold, things to do, **** maybe even ***. I want to feel like this all of the time, but I just had a ****** ****** ******* while hiding on your bathroom floor because you wanted to go to sleep early like a *****, and I’m recounting my last dozen or so ******* and they all ******* ******. all of them. that’s like, atleast three weeks of *******, maybe even over a month, and they’ve all ******* ******.
You’ve done a lot of ****** things. Getting all in my brain and messing with my ******* is (hopefUlly) my breaking point.
Blake Jul 5
The way you touch me
I want to cry
a gentle, comforting hug
as we whisper our goodbyes

and the way you look at me
its as if
we are your favourite song
and I'm the melody

when I'm around you I feel okay
like happy isn't a part
I need to play
but a part of me and I have to say,
I love it.

every time we hug
I swear I can feel every broken piece of me
being put back all snug
and in that moment I know
that I can love.
This is no longer applicable to the person it’s about but I will not remove it or be ashamed of it or regret it. I did feel this at one time. And I’m proud that I got to feel it.
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