By Arcassin Burnham

Stay where my soul is extending while
slowly ascending from the abyss,
Stuck between a rock and a hard place in this
place I wish I won't exist,
Searching for things in this life I can not find,
They leech off my existence,
Committing these sins for the same **** reason,
I don't know if I serve a penance.
Live from the river bank , song from the ocean floor,
People spill the red stream,
Religion kills and revive the life of the others waiting
for a dream,
Serving things that don't serve back, why the hell
Is this an ongoing thing,
Playing off your weakness boy , don't let your blood
fall in the red stream,
Red Stream.

I am wise,
because I've been a fool.
I am brave,
because I've been scared.
I am strong,
because I've been weak.

Is it enough that I am me?
Am I really all I can be,
Is there more,
Or am I less.
Do I really have limits,
Or just boundaries to test?
I strive to be better,
But achieve stagnation.
Is this mediocrity really cause for celebration?
I judge me and I do not pass,
The strength of my heart is brittle like glass.
My soul weeps with pain,
Will it last?
Or is it just another flash in the pan,
A prang in my heart.

Sometimes, I am a paper girl.
I look in the mirror
To judge my blotches and creases-
I am a pale, thin tissue
That bows to the howling wind
Transparent for anyone who cares enough to look.

If you like pretty pictures, I'm the one for you-
A roll of film scratching laughs
On curious cinema screens
That could run into infinity
Just to fuel your smile.

I soak up your messes willingly:
All the colours that bleed and mix
To form the specks of sadness
In your eyes at 10.p.m
And the grass stains that roll
Down your bare gypsy feet
And the sunflower seeds
That stick to your inky lashes-
These things give an echo of the flavour
I miss.

I am vain
I regularly conjure up poetry on my skin-
Do not give me yours.
I will recite it to my last paper breath
So I can kid myself that paper is power.

I am not the phantom you teach to play piano
Under the helter-skelter moon,
I am far too fragile for that-
My paper cut fingers bend
And bleed light all over the keys.

My hands are a canvas
For anyone's ***** details
For if enough titles are painted on my body then perhaps
I will learn the complex trick
Of gaining depth

And maybe the world will look as full
And real as I read in books
And dance with in music
And maybe my edges will stop being ripped
Or my corners cut
Or my pages burned and tossed aside.

Sometimes, I am this tiny
Vulnerable
Origami creature
And my cream card bones tremble like feathers
A bad caricature of life.

Sometimes I am full of wonder-

But right now, I am this.

You left me broken.

Because of you I judged myself a little harder.

Reasons you loved me were now the things I wanted to change.

Out of all things, you used my vulnerabilities against me.

Kindness was used as a weakness, but you were too. My love was taken for granted.

Even though I still loved you for a while afterwards i finally realized my worth.

Not only was i broken, but i was growing. And the new me was glowing. And the part of my life without you i just couldn't wait to show it. My confidence was my new strength and I had you to thank.

All because you left me.