The clocks have never
worked in our favour,
maybe I must accept
we'll always be bad timing.

I could write a meaningful story with a meaningful message for you to carry with you into the future and beyond.

No, I don't think I have enough time to create a picture in your mind of what I have to say.

There is nothing to gain or give to the words I write in the time I have left.

How about 5?

< 5. Would you be able to pull this off by then?

I can't and I have < 10.

Maybe it's easy for you, but accept the fact that it is not easy to write good poetry with purpose and meaning and feeling and anything that is important to you in < 10 minutes...

It's 10:00 at night and it's been at least a half hour since you've eaten something. You make your way to the kitchen, empty bowl in hand. You place the bowl with the ***** dishes and the world slows down as you turn to see the small container with your name on it...

I hate it.

You grab a glass of juice and stare at the container down. As if the black that so neatly stamps your name could stare back. You open the kid proof cap and pour out half its contents into your dominant hand.

Just to feel the weight of death in you dominant hand. "Take 2 twice daily." They said.

The half orange, half yellow capsules still in my palm. Feeling the plastic-like coating I feel like I could crush in 2 seconds flat.

Freeze.

Time stops.

This, is when the protagonist eats as many pills as her body will allow, when she gives in, when she dies. This movie is almost over...

Nobody else is awake, it's just you and your handful of pills.

No.

This movie goes on, the protagonist will live.

You-- are not built on a mountain of clichés and stereotypical archetypes.

You.
Are.
Here.

And still alive!

You pour the pills back into the container, with 4 still left in you hand. You take 2 but you still feel like it's stuck in your throat, so you eat something small to force it down. Even though these pills are supposed to be take on an empty stomach...

You get a glass of water, and set that aside with the 2 remaining pills for tomorrow morning.

Now go to sleep, make sure this protagonist lives to take the Hollywood medication tomorrow.

by Arcassin Burnham

On rainy days like this one here was just a wreck
in a short distant memory that only i can recollect,
i had to process the problems in my head to really
check on the thoughts in the air of my forehead to
break a sweat,
And you would have thought i pepped,
the people that push up my problems in a flash while
thinkin' back in this reality a man,
That i am more than them in every way to be exact
and not cocky but very optimistic to say i can.

A goodbye isn't real if you don't mean it
Isn't final if you don't feel it
The love I bear for you transcends the word
And I am left with a
mouth full of ashes to prove it
The promises, my fealty to him
Incinerated in an instant, all gone
When I felt you pressed against my skin
But in this moment,
We cannot carry on

I've desperately tried over and again
To ignore it, remove it, or change it
Yet it clings to the back of my mind
On a near constant basis
That is why, with every goodbye
I can never follow through
In leaving this all behind me
Physically unable to turn, yet knowing
All the same I should,
Torn between a love that burns
Brighter than any sun
And one that verges ever closer
To the brink of insanity
No longer my safety and comfort
But the loss of stability is due to
The desire to keep both close
In proximity, and I'm only allowed to keep one.

I carry you with me, always
My mind sometimes overcome
By the future I saw play out in my dreams
Longing for this ending, you and I
But in this moment it cannot be

Once in a lifetime, forever kind of love

So goodbye isn't an ending,
But merely,
I'll come back when I'm ready
And the timing isn't so wrong

Not again.*
Careful self.
Enjoy.
Wait.
Push.
Fall.
Can't stop.
Sigh.
Stop.
Cry.
Tears.
Broke.
Fears.

In times of extreme stress -
My peak anxiety,
I come out in terrible spots -
Just one or two
strategically placed.
*******, why tonight?