I just want an imagination,
Something left to be
From which I can imaginate
A childhood fantasy.

I'd be a princess sweeping floors,
A servant in her court,
A woodland creature hunted down,
A ship without a port.

I'd be a bat, a moth, a worm,
A child without a voice
No noise, no music, no real sense,
If only I had choice.

I'd be so free, I'd fly so far
From that life which I knew
I'd show the world how one young girl
Can paint life her own hue.

I'd do these things, and many more;
I'd sacrifice my all
If only I could change the horrors
Back when I was small.

Aqui no hay nada mas que hacer
tus ojos ya no son mis ojos
en el espejo no veo reflejo
antipatico de tu parte, inutil de la mia

Para que pensar en volver, si ya no existes mas
no has muerto pero tus pensamientos si
que raro es respirar aqui
es vergonzoso como me dejaste, como acabaste conmigo

Siempre lo expresaste, siempre lo dijiste
imaginate que no estemos juntos algun dia
que tu me veas a mi y yo te vea a ti
con nuestras vidas hechas, que pensarias?

Hoy veo esa situacion pero ahi algo que no cuadra
yo no te puedo ver a ti
mis ojos no me permiten tener ese talento
no puedo ver a gente que ya no esta en este mundo

No hay nada mas que hacer

By ARCASSIN BURNHAM








Remembering That day,
that we walked on the beach,
everyone was in imaginate,
While we were on a leash,
Reminise about the days that i spent,
with her,
I thought i loved someone else,
but when it came to her,
lookin into her eyes,
As the sun hits the ocean,
Thinkin bout that one kiss,
that didnt happen,
was an illusion,

But the death of her mom,
it would only make her calm,
a few times,
developed feelings were born,
That your so strong,
cry a few just to get it out,
IF she finds out that i love you,
she mite have her doubts,
Just a troubled teen,
trying to figure out,
why is the world so cold,
jesus help us out,

heading home from burger king,
had some bad thoughts,
gotta save the trouble,
that im got in ,
just to get lost,
suicidal over the love,
that i thought was lost,
but she didnt know,
until we had the talk,
love her like my green bike,
wishing i had her here tonight,
hopin that these bad thoughts i had would make it alright,
i warned you,

alexis if you get this letter i wrote to you,
i just want you to know everything was about you,
and your struggle as a teen,
and everything that you use to,
im sorry for what i put you through,
I Still Love You.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so I’ll have to sing a sea of syllables into your ears as even the blind can see with their hearts, minds and imaginate a journey with me.

Waking up to a fresh, clean, crisp sheet, warmly it holds you in bed as you try to open your eyes but this morning the front and back of the little lids that normally unlock your world suddenly share the same view, black, dark, it looks like blinding night in your day this morning,

Breathe, your heart pounds as if it’s trying to escape… BREATHE! Ok wow, calm down now! stop breathing before you pass out! no one is planning to take your air away, but you are about to learn what that casual cliché, so easily tossed around means when it looks like it’s here to stay, that is to say; life carries on.

Calming your farm down to a mild “end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it” panic, your blood-curdling scream that pierces the dream atmosphere of bacon and freshly roasted coffee reaches to the kitchen and corners your Mom, I CAN’T SEE!

Fast forward till tomorrow;
doc John said its totally temporary! stress related, soon to pass blindness, gone in a week max, no biggie, get some rest and drink plenty of water for your thirsty eyes.

Frustration turns to sad acceptance and so we begin…

After 2 days of wrestling with the depression of your fate, you are found lying at the initial crime scene in those once fresh sheets where it all began, they’re warm and slightly wet from tears of why me? Oh woe! Poor pity party politics gossiped a track around your head together with an ever increasingly boring, internal investigation into life and all things self-centred until thankfully, eventually you give up.

Cautiously stepping out of that noise for a stumble around your midnight world to take a stress relieving seat by the window, with some water to replenish the puffy and somewhat useless sprinkler system on your face once called eyes.
You fumble to open the window latch and let life in, as you do it’s as if Noahs ark sprung a rainbow leak, flooding your imagination all at once,

Imagery

Crystal clear you see through your ears, almost endless scenes of birds cooing small talk with rustling leaves, even the wind smells new as its warm ancient stories hint past your nose and hairline.
The neighbour’s dog suddenly sounds as if he finished a whole bowl full of bark on loudspeaker.
Heat and cold, pressure changing pockets gently caress you in waves of temperature on the now super sensitive shores of your skin.

You have become an exposed nerve of senses, with imagery stuffing itself into your ever-expanding mind, this is how superheroes are born! You think, as the cocoon of depression falls off and you spread your wings into the sounds of sunlight.

Tuning into new frequencies you realize that you can catch Friday action night on Good Hope fm.

Before you know it those wet sheets accommodate the visually handicapped once more as your sight comes back from its holiday, apparently stress-free, the doctor checked.

I still catch you closing your eyes every once in a while though, I guess you’re probably visiting those newfound friends of yours Faith & and imagined imagery again.