for I have seen,
my word is death.
my word in my mind
creates my life,
and in my life is death,
so my word is death.
there's so much of it,
so many versions of this
a word written, spoken,
and it is death.
over and over,
it is death.
over and over
by one word.
but what word is it?
what word that creates life,
and therefore death?
because this one death,
this death I die,
over and over,
by this word,
it is killing me.
it smothers my life,
my love my heart.
now if only it was
a word of love,
would that it would create
but hate would follow
in it's stead.
and so it is with all
joy and sorrow,
hope and fear
charity and greed.
and so thus it is
that my word is life
and it was death
because in both
all things are
over, and over.
and my word was death.
Depression is an addiction
A saddists representation
Of what is a fascination
You want love without pain
But you end up with pain and no love
No this isn't freedom you don't end it with a white dove.
You're happy but you're fighting that feeling
To rip your skin till its tingling
And you know your okay
But the pain could return any day
And you long for that certain kind of sadness
That energy you get from all the badness
And your mother said no
But your heart said don’t let go
And you’re fighting a war inside your head
And the place to find rest isn’t your bed
You prey, you pray
You let go of the fray
But you don’t fall
God is that you? Am I dead? Is it true?
Why child don’t you see? I sent my son to save thee.
You’re not dead. Not even near.
I’ve come to take away all your fear.
Oh God I don’t deserve this.
This heavenly abyss.
I’ve done wrong for all to long.
I don’t deserve your love. I don’t deserve to be up above.
Child be at peace. Your sin is yet to cease.
You are human are you not?
Or have you forgot?
But my mercy is abundant
And you’ve yet to pass your judgement
Child I will give you what you seek
If you may ask me, if you’re not too meek.
Father, forgive me, all I have is yours
It may not be much but I’m down on all fours.
Child I forgive you, but this is your cue
Go out and spread my word
My beautiful song bird
That first time he touched me, I could have screamed,
Demanding to know where he has been, or if fate forgot about our destiny, temporarily…
Because in that moment his hands were all I needed
and I had needed them for so very long, that affection… provided direction, for a soul who was wandering lost for what felt like eternity
her long limbs stretched out
as bright sunbeams streamed in,
pale plastic trim in the golden hue,
oh, how she wishes to be like you,
she’s got your smile and memories, true,
and in candlelight, when Santana is playing,
we dance, cheek to cheek, like we always do,
but every so often, in those quiet spaces,
when I grow silent, and cannot speak,
her senses see where my head is at,
she slips away to peek at old photos
of our happiest times and places,
those pictures of our young faces,
wondering if her shadow is yours,
or something altogether new.
By Arcassin Burnham
This is that all of a sudden my grandpa got diabetes
That Chemo can fight all types of cancers type of
I love you but i think i need space for some time
I want my virginity taken like everybody in my class
I'm gonna complain and complain to anger my husband even more
she told me I had to be big down there to please her good
At the end of the day you think I'm your friend, on some back stabbing
I don't know why people listen to television
this that eat everything in the fridge and leave everybody nothing
What are you gonna do shit,
the world ain't what it seems and just you blind bullshit,
I rather raise money to move to another country and get a passport
...might as well be?
Lo, now the moon peers in to splash a pale
Glance 'cross Mum's carpet, up my legs and thence
Upon these silent hands sans voice, a sense
Thet silver eye just watches, what'd avail?
The Scriptures. As tree silhouettes detail
Nigh ghastly clouds with blackened figures, hence
Recall "...one glory of the sun--" fr'intents:
"...Another of the moon--" what, in betrayl?
Forsooth. I am not Mum, nor shall in poor
Scuse ever match up. Yet what should I do?
My aunt sez God has me still here as twere
To do His will. I can't but own tis true.
Dreams, prayrs, half mock what is. Whatever, fer
All that is my work? Someday swear I knew?
Life has no meaning, to me, to them,
but I live for a reason, for me, for them.
Life goes on, it will for years,
so why should I sit here in lonesome helplessness?
I am able to walk, to stand, to help, to help me, and them.
But I'm stuck in the selfish turn of things, too tired to try again.
I rather get up and do something,
and for the rest of the day be at peace with myself,
knowing that a bit of my heart was devoted to it.
I am one person, what can one person do?
Everyone is one, one person, me, them.
People have done things because they are able, am I too able yet?
I have been trying so hard to show people the meaning of life,
but I feel it's nonexistent, but
the reason to live, well, I have a reason, I have a purpose;
to try and make tomorrow better, as long as
there is a
I sometimes walk back into a public establishment, for a logical reason in myself, simply because I've seen a person who looked curios to me. When I notice that they are no longer their as I enter and take my seat, I continue on. Nothing changes.
I've come a long long way.
When I was a little boy, I would breakdown in tamper-tantrums, because someone I cared about for no reason had disappeared, never to be seen again.
(Hi, may I have a large coffee, please. That's all)