I’m watching the trees dance under
paling sky’s thick cerulean shadow,
wondering if they’re like me.

                 Wondering if the bioelectrical fibers
                 twisting through the trunk of my neck
                 are like the gusts of wind braiding their branches.

                             Wondering if it keeps them awake,
                             or if it lulls them into enduring slumber.


I’m losing hours behind my circuitous strides through
conscious coma,
pondering those incessant curiosities of
permanent sleep
that so often plague the restless furrows of my stormy mind.


She’s looking at me like
I’m broken again, following me
out the door and impulsively pining
for a fix she couldn’t understand.
For sanguine is the nature of this
four-legged creature so stubborn
and at my heels. Striving to help
as she so often does.

But I’m not broken. No.
I’m comfortably subdued by the soothing
song of sinuous water cascading through
calloused toes, and the weight of
the stained notebook resting on my lap,
whose pages cradle the words of
psychological shadow flowing through my
murky
     streams
              of
                 consciousness.

These are the words that release me.
That so seamlessly pair
the id with the ego and put me to
sleep atop dew-lit grass.
The words that purge me of insanity, and pave my path
to self-discovery.

She knows this too,
Her primordial mind somehow
knows it and yes,
Yes it fixes me.

little light
little sunshine
little luck
i wish you'd never gone
those words felt like stabs
i know that,
but time will cure your wounds
dear happy
little spring breeze
little melody,
i'm so sorry.
please stay at least tonight.

we fall in love
so the one we are falling for
catches us.
When they let us fall,
it's hard to recover.
It is not an easy fall.
It's one that is damaging.
It's one that takes a while to cure.  
When you fall in love and you do not land well,
you finalize with a broken heart.

Tried everything,
Only a mother's love can mend
A broken heart,
And feed an empty soul.

by Arcassin Burnham


Am I alive or just breathing in a dead corpse,
The silence is where my heart use to be,
God coming through for me,
Harvested the honey tree,
O! How I was just a simpleton to everyone's superiority
In bashfulness and disloyalty,
But I'm me,
What about you,
Like what about you,
I don't like you,
You didn't believe in me when I was kicked down on the
Ground with a hundred feet stomping me,
Doing things for myself is always the best company,
I wondered what I would've done if I hadn't been just doing
Things for me,
It's the best cup of tea,
That myself gave to me ....... of that makes any sense,
I don't know maybe this is my cure after all.