Painlessly I paved my way
through this life
Till fear came and brought it’s knife
(Or a dagger, may it be?)
And paved its scar inside of me

And so I, kept this walking
into blinding paths, unseen
And twisted trails and trials
that turned my dream

And though the scar I hide
was healing inside
I could not hide
it’s seam
A thread of fate severed,
By the cold hands of reality,
A thread never connected,
To the one it was sent too,
A Thread left behind in a place long forgotten,
To be picked up by a stranger in passing,
A red string sent out,
And denied by the receiver,
Ties of fate spreading across the world,
Piercing backs of humans,
Tying together our fate as a species,
Eternally.
By Arcassin Burnham

I gave my all,
It was in Vein,
Life's turning over.

You died for yours,
I died for mine,
Why do this sober?

My voice is shot,
I can not breathe,
This makes it so worse.

Tell everyone,
I hurt you so,
But they don't know hurt.

I gave my all,
I gave my all,
We had it all.
I gave my all,
I gave my all,
We had it all.

/

Beautiful is the eyes to the human soul,
How could you be this cute?
How could you be this good?
How could you be a saint?
What made you understood?
Your eyes say it all in this moment for sure,
How could you ever love me?
What made you want to trust me?
What it good for you like it was for me
When you first kissed me?
I thought it was very good.
©abpoetry2018

https://arcassin.blogspot.com/2018/07/give-my-all-you-understood.html
A child that runs free
With skinned knees and no worries
How I miss those days
I miss those simple days. truly.
Man, today was such a long day, my limbs are aching!
But i'm back with more haikus!
125 followers? Bring on the tears T-T
I can't thank you enough!
Really, it means alot!
Love you and be back soon!
Lyn xxx
den 20h
i might miss you,
i might miss everything
about you

i might miss
your eyes,
your lips,
your hair,
your hands
that used to hold mine

i might miss
the hugs,
the kisses,
the i love you's,
the warm nights
when you used to hold me
in your arms

above everything
that i might miss,
it's the little things
that i will surely
miss the most

your voice,
your laugh,
your smile,
your wit,
your silly jokes

the chuckle you have,
the way you say my name,
the twinkle in your eyes
whenever you met mine,
the late night talks that
kept us awake
till the wee hours
of the morning

it's the little things,
it's always the little things
that make me miss you
Kat 22h
Your awkwardness is infectious
These words can never really catch us
Would you say I'm making a fuss

Maybe this is normal
you just can't help but being formal
I know all of this seems quite suboptimal

But you know
I didn't think of this like a great show
Are we still going with the flow

I don't know what to tell you
if we both agree on this how could we be through
My thoughts are always overflowing, your words are few

So is it okay if you maybe
phrase your intentions more clearly
all I want is to talk with you freely

Like we talked when we saw
each other with loving awe
and being open and true was the law
A mouth full of words that ever since you have been left unspoken.
Now I’d give anything to have this silence broken.
I never meant to take you for granted and the proof is in every poem I’ve written,
but when I see your picture those old wounds reopen.

I curse the past, so goodbye!
I’m going backwards, I don’t understand why.
I look back, but all I see is wasted time.
How can one yearn for something so bad and not have it in their life?
I had one thing with you, something I treasured with my life.
Now I have sh*t and that’s how I feel like.

This bed could be warm with my arms holding you close,
but my world stopped turning long ago and yours continued its course.
Written on June 14, 2003
Composition number: 156
Busy mind, busy me.
Busy me minding my busy.
Busy, you see, minding me.
I’m busy all the time and we
Remind me of how busy
My mind used to be
For you.
Busy you, minding me
Busily rushing through, dizzy.
Dizzily stumbling around the truth
Hoping we wouldn’t be
Too busy minded to see
Still Polaroid’s in all the scenes.
Images golden and sweet
Nostalgically tasting honey
These funny memories made by Bees
Busy Bees
Like you and me.
AS 1d
Life is not free,
it comes with a cost just to breathe.
The expectations not to be emplaced on the seed.
Judge for how they choose lead.
Punished for how they believe and chose to breed.
Marked and abandoned,
for choosing to see and to move away,
to reject disgusting displays.
To be shown disdain for following their own way.
Blamed when they choose not to stay the same.
Cost of the invisible chain,
placed on the terrain of birth.
Dependent to the pain,
to the mother who reined.
Tossed away when finally mirrored the destructive game,
patience snapped and apologised for the same way the birth-maid acts.
Distanced to detach,
to move away from the shame.
A promise made when a little babe,
to never be the same.
Shocked on the way,
they pushed patience down the drain.
Enacted by refusal to be the slave,
to take the blame and defend the endless plague you enrage.
Expected to be thankful,
guilted to stay in line.
Manipulated every time they attempt to  fly.
Co-dependently wrapped,
to give meaning the way in which your life lacked.
An ear to smear all your hate,
fear and tsunami tears.
Flooded in your pain,
you  the victim and to take no blame.
Born a parent in the early days,
cleaning and protecting you from the dirt you spurt.
From the countless monsters in which you learnt.
Sadness,
that you ever witnessed that level of madness.
Not to be kept to your past tense,
to swallow and drain with your inner hallow.
To clip their wings,
as for only you they can sing.
To demand,
offended when the glove is on the other hand.
To not poison others land or be offended when they flee.
When the hunger to find serene,
suck dry for too long.
Came to a point,
grief hidden within the earthly core finally exploded.
No longer naive,
willing to adore or ignore.
Needing to breathe,
to speak,
to burst out what has been hidden underneath.
To truly breathe,
to find reprieve.
To heal from the demons which deceived.
To unfreeze the mind,
from all the other monsters you missed slip by.
Not to be told that I lied,
because it breaks your god damn pride.
Not to be hissed at or dismissed,
for what you missed.
Life has been,
was what I owed,
for being brought up and given food.
The basics to accept the rudeness and being clueless.
Don't give birth if your child does not come first,
don't let them bleed to feed your own needs.
Recognise they're a child,
not a friend to take care after you've gone wild.
Not to be confined in places they seem wise.
A child is a gift,
not someone to heavy lift.
Not to manage your whims.
As a child do not owe,
no entitlement to treat them low.
Rid of your countless rules,
the one's incredibly cruel.
Those only practised by the few,
the ones who spread the blue,
to those who surround.
Unable to find stable ground.
Life should be free,
in this way you see,
it cannot not be.
Children deserve to breathe,
not to have them mentally disciplined onto their knees.


© 2018

Abigail Sheard
Poetry is my release, a place to reveal and heal.
Wyatt 2d
After all these years
your stench is still on me,
your name still disgusts me,
your curse on my life
still sticks with me every day.
What you did to me,
how you preyed on me
when I was way too young.
How you’re probably still
out there somewhere
doing it to someone else,
I’m tired of thinking about it.
I’m afraid of people
and what they might think,
you’re the reason why.
Why did you do this to me?
Why did you break me?

Late night thoughts,
stricken with fear.
Someone will find out,
I’ll be shunned by my peers.
Dysfunctional, weary.
It stays with me,
I feel disgusting.
Cannot function without
that memory appearing.
Cannot socialize,
it might happen again.
My hands still shake,
I’ll never get over this.
Your stench is still on me,
it’s all so ugly.
Innocence stolen by you,
part of me died back then.
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