let’s live suddenly without thinking

under honest trees,
                        a stream
does.the brain of cleverly-crinkling
-water pursues the angry dream
of the shore. By midnight,
                                a moon
scratches the skin of the organised hills

an edged nothing begins to prune

let’s live like the light that kills
and let’s as silence,
                            because Whirl’s after all:
(after me)love,and after you.
I occasionally feel vague how
vague idon’t know tenuous Now-
spears and The Then-arrows making do
our mouths something red,something tall

his breath woke me up every night
we lay in bed; no, it wasn't
that his breath smelled of toxins,
but of dandelions and poppies.
his hair smelled like he rolled around in
fields of roses and he was
the single dandelion that begged and
pleaded to fit in.
he would never fit
in but he didn't know that, so
he kept trying and it was
so beautiful to say the least.
underneath his skin, in-between
his veins and his bones are tiny seeds that
i planted with kisses and they
grow with my love, when i wrap my
bony arms around him and
squeeze tightly - it lets him
know that he's not normal, that he's
not right in the head but
i love that. so when he wakes me
in the middle of the night, as
i lie between him and the emptiness of
the night, i think that i'm dying
but the moon light lingers and i
know i am safe with his flower breath
and the weeds growing in-between
us and the roots that grow out
of my heels and strangle the love
picture frames on our off-white
bedroom wall. i stare at those cookie-cutter
pictures and wish i wasn't right
in the head, too, but if we both were
psychotic, he wouldn't be a dandelion.
so i stay awake and watch
his beauty radiate in the darkness of
the night and wish that i
was that beautiful too. but he
tells me that my battle wounds don't
amount to anything to him, that my skin
is a ghost to him. i wish
he saw me for me, but his eyes
see the beauty that he grows.
but several nights he leaves me and
i am cold and i am worthless and
i pray to a god that he will
come back and taunt me because
i cannot stand it when he is
not here between my fragile arms
keeping me warm and safe.
i beg him when he returns to just
stay the night, just one more night,
because i cannot bare to
sleep without the dandelion amidst
all the rose petals. i need
my dandelion to keep me safe
and to be the needle in the
haystack - i need him to be in my
arms because idon'twanttosleepalone.

subtly, subtly does the depression
rip me apart- a part of me
burning, it's all concerning and
undeserving—unnerving under my skin
i wish I could be a different person.

Who am l, who am I?

I....am the representation of all depression
in the darkest thoughts, all chasing- not to mention
The deception of what is my self-esteem,
a passive aggressive; less than the self taught lessons
a dog chasing it's tail, in a ball of tears my eyes are
always fetching.

I am depression: a random whisper of sadness
this is my depression who robs my gladness
A quiet madness, maddening villain; a saddening
million dark thoughts- non making sense but just bad dealing
I choke myself on awkward feelings, cutting myself
with the sharp thoughts of over thinking

I am depression: who makes you feel like everyone
else is in their well order. "You don't have much time to
make something of yourself, you’re getting much older"
Pour me tears of cringy replays, poor me could have
done better. People who pierce you, asking aren't
you supposed to be clever

I am depression: making you question everything
in anxiety's language. You're in a perfect imbalance,
impasse- a dead end in your head. Cornered, cornered!

This is depression, in it's usual session, an unhealthy
obsession to beg the question: is this out of your
compression? Comprehensive over spending, a penny for
a thought-in the end to only self lessen

I pray to the Lord that this feeling doesn't follow,
and if so, I don't want tomorrow.

i didn't mind when you
walked away, and i didn't pretend
to ignore it when you looked back
twice, but (in all honesty),
a goodbye would have been nice

By Arcassin Burnham

Constant conscious loving all the little things
In life,
Can't let these little things like clouded emotions
Spark a light,
Out to be gifted but Santa's shop is closed this night,
Remembered your name in desperate times but
You forgot about mine,
so,
Thats why I don't belong,
Here,
I can just say ***** it and end up giving my
Life to a man I've never seen ,
messing up my Vision with the bright light,
I maybe be would be judged with a small smite,
But everything gets cold when frost bites,
And you don't feel so holy when the heart dies.

Plague in body and soul
sweeps across the billowing waves of despair yesterday
while to-morrow looks forward to forgetting the lapse in judgement
made today.

She stands in front of me holding her microphone at my lips, cameras flash around us.
                                                           “Congratulations on your book.”
I wrote a book. I’ve done something with my life and that makes me GOOD. smile for the camera, million dollar grins taste like bile. Thank you, thank you all!
                                                          “What inspired you to write this”
I don’t remember what book she’s talking about, incarnadine, middle of mars, buoyant, the harry potter fanfiction in my google docs.
                                                                       “What are you afraid of?”
Snakes.
                                    “Why won’t you tell us what you’re afraid of?”
SNAKES
                                                                     “What scares you the most?”
The gun shoots into the back of her head, her mouth drips blood onto my dress. The girls are gone, everyone is gone, I hold the dead reporter and scream for help.
I turn her over to see her face, my friend stares back at me and the weight of the gun is heavy in my right hand.

Darkness. Pitch- black- darkness-
The phone rings on my bedside table, i scramble through the empty bags of goldfish and glasses of wine. The crack shoots through the middle of the phone, when i slide to answer the pressure of my finger makes the screen turn blue.
“Hello?”
                                                                                         “What are you-”
I throw the phone against the dresser and when I open my eyes I’m standing on top of the bank of america tower, rain pelts my back stinging me through my clothes. I step off the ledge and plummet-
Underwater in the pool resurfacing for air, my dead friend laughs with her boyfriend, throwing her head back for the last sip of beer. The bullet hole is gone, she’s alive. I didn’t **** her.

Or maybe you did and now you’re dead too.

The gravestone rests in the corner of the brandon graveyard, surrounded by mossy trees and mud there are no flowers here, not a valuable life lost.
                                              Madison Ballou
                                                    AFRAID
I cry on the bench, holding onto the frays of my black cardigan to steady myself between the sorrow. How old was I? How old AM I? Seventeen, I was only seventeen when I died. God sits next to me, spinning tarot cards in his hands.
                                                                                  “What have I done?”
He doesn’t say anything and flips over the card. The tower.
                                                                           “Tell me it’s not too late.”
The train pulls into the station, the station being the graveyard, over my grave. They let a train run over my ******* grave. It’s smoke billows into the atmosphere and the whistle is loud.
I look back to God and he holds nothing. “What am I doing?” I ask, talk to me.
“You were seventeen years old when you died. You were seventeen when you were born, too.”
“What does that mean?”
“Get on the train.”
“Where will it take me?”
“On.”

I’m so ******* hungry right now.
I haven’t eaten since Monday, look at me, look at me. Ravenous, hunger, belly aches of nothingness. I am beautiful! God almighty, BEAUTIFUL! But these ribcages aren’t letting me breathe anymore, size 0 isn’t as glamorous as it seems.
I drink wine to fill the void of food, I eat food to fill the other voids, but i filled those with LSD and now there’s nothing left.

Standing in front of the refrigerator, the reporter comes and stands next to me. “What are you afraid of?”

“Eating.”

                                                           -x-

The phone rings again, vibrating across the room. I crawl on carpet and reach for it, the ringing stops once it’s in my hand. 3 Missed Calls from Brandon. Standing up my room my head spins and the ceiling is still out of reach. The closer I get, the further away it runs. Am I alive? I check my neck for a pulse and it beats with a rapid rhythm. Water, I need water.


The lake is beautiful, clear water, drinking water. Pandora! Heaven! I drink the water and it cools my insides, my heart slows to a regular beat. Then the water turns thick in my throat, the taste of metal making me gag. Blood fills the lake, bodies of the dead floating.
NoNo!
The cameras catch me in front of the lake, I turn towards them with blood still running down my chin. “I-”
“These are all the people who cared, all the people who cried.”
I turn back to the lake and I see the funeral, everyone I love dressed in black, expressionless faces. My mom hides her face in her hands and a part of me is thankful I can’t see it.
“What are you afraid of?”
The choir sings but it sounds like blood.
“Mars!” She yells. “What happened to you?”

Idon’tknowanymore. I don’t know.
I don’t know what happened to me and I’m scared.
I open my eyes to my uncle, molesting me once again.
I remember this vividly.
I open my eyes to being punched
they close again.


My stomach drops, I’m falling. I cannot see where I am falling, everything around me is dark- only a blinding light from above? Have I died again? I jolt on the couch, waking up to my friends house. I cannot recall how I have gotten here, or why it is midnight of the next day.
Friday-sunday. Saturday forgotten.
The computer is bright in the dark room, I can hear girls whispering in the other room, one jumping in the pool. My name comes up on the screen as a user ID, waiting for me to type in my password.
My phone lays beside me in a mess of blankets and pillow sheets, 30 new notifications. Nobody is wondering where I am, so I guess i’m not lost.

My snapchat memories are filled with videos and pictures of my friends, we went to the beach today, we threw a party. Where was I this whole time?
In the pictures but absent.

A text comes through, one from an unknown number
What are you afraid of?
I type back, what do you want from me?
Nobody answers.

I know this feeling lonliness like the back of my hand.
We spent a lot of time together last year..
Collapsing back into bed and watching as the roof sets on fire the smoke enters through my nose and I breathe in foggy air. Inside, I ignite.


She comes to me once again, holding her microphone on the side of a hill looking down at the beach. I do not scream.
                                                                          “What are you afraid of?”
The moon hovers over the sea
“Things getting worse.”

The marker
(Sharpiepermanentmarkertwintip)
In your hand
I pull back
"Don't"
Fearing the ink
(Hopfullynontoxic)
Staining my forehead like
Your gesture would like
To suggest.
"But what if I write in Elvish?"
And I
Surrender
My palm
And your breath smells
Like
Pumpkin
Chocolate
("Idon'treallylikechocolatechips,Al­ice")
And a sprinkling of
Love
("Ilikeyou"saidmyotherpalminpen,yourhandiwork)
After the
First letter
It was too obvious
The characters
Were not
Elvish
(Softsweetnearsilentgigglesissuedfromyourlips)
As you wrote words
You knew
Mean so much to me
Though they really are
So little

You're cute
And a tiny
Heart

And you had
No coat
In this cold
(InIdahoit'salways30degrees,I'mfine)
And I gave you
My biggest
Coat
And we went
To your door
And your lips
Met mine
In the best way.

Now
You have my jacket
And I want to
Tattoo your words
Into my palms
(You'recute<3Ilikeyou)
But then
In
Green
You sewed
"I like you <3"
God knows
Where
And you say
The jacket
Makes you feel loved
And he says
You are
Fa
Fall
Falling
In love
And I want
To believe
I can hope
For
A
Bit
Longer
Than
Infinity
(Ihopeyoudon'tmindmesleepinginit)
Lik­e the way
You said with
Your hands
We should
Kiss.

For some reason,
recently,
I've been missing him to the point of
exhaustion.
The thing is, I know
that I don't want to go back.
But what am I supposed to do when forward
is invisible
and the
right-now
is so
hopeless.
Love looks so far away and I'm wishing to bring it
closer. Only
wishing.
I'm too
broken-hearted to go out and
get it. But it's
screaming at me
to
stop
stop
stop
pushing it farther while wishing it closer.
"You can't have both"
it whispers. And I,
I
cry.

The desire to be good
In a world so full of evil

The desire to see wood
In loveliness medieval

I'm no saint, I too fall
But I like a little kindness

Silence can be comforting
A little idon'tmindness

I guess this is about someone else,
but I want it to be about you for nostalgic purposes.

there's something different about wanting to touch your face and actually doing it.
that's how it always is.
you're the black-ink-on-paper-to-get-you-out-of-my-head kind of guy,
you're the never awake past noon because you don't want to deal with reality kind of mind,
you're one of those half-drunk, half-broken, half-idon'tcarebecauseyoudon'tcare kind of lovers.

one day I'm going to quit everything.


the cat laps milk
instead of water
from the palm of a mothers hand,
it's rough tongue leaving
purple lines
broken and deep
like the stretch marks that map her body.

She'll talk to me about her children
and the little things in her life that don't seem to matter much anymore,
and we'll watch people and assume things like people do,
and we'll kiss each other out of boredom
and she'll tell me to braid her hair,
because she wants to feel young again,
and I'll tell her to read me her story,
because I want to feel closer,
and she'll tell me about the cat
and she'll let me pet it
but she wont let me sleep in her bed
or put away the dishes
or kiss her on the days that she wears lipstick.

She reminds me of you,
except she's something I can feel.

i do not write a poem it
from "who knows where" comes
in its body
is some words
i think
some words
but

why       ?
and             i

"don't know" cuz
like lithe
from out of
sleeping hair it marches

adamantine

unstoppable

invincibly fragile
it marches
doe-like

its eyes are pretty too
and in the terse clutch of its stinging copse
i s
pythe
gleaming rind of life

foamed in sweat
it is nubile strong delicate

but

i do not write a poem
it from
"who knows"
where
(idon't)

**** so little tremble(littletremblingthing)
you rough prickle, 'gainst my lips prickle
your day old stubble(idon'tcareifithurts
abit)and deeper digging mouth does
and those tiny splinters(asyousprout
yourentirelyquakingbody)get so
snugly piercing my skin i (but i didn't
care a bit even if they rip it clean from
my cheeks; those minute spears of yours
)pressing steeply even further i do
to get your fiercely pleasant muscles
up 2 1 startled splendor
(when you open sharply and cave out
one stifled ROAR,

red lips. flushed cheeks.
you're getting all dolled up!
she looks at me. really looks at me. sees through the heat.
smiles knowing my insides don't match the pretty picture. looks at me.
like i am something fantastic. spun from fairytales.
sewn in glittery patches across ratty old jeans.
her gaze hits me. you don't need your hands to slap.

the silk is unraveling and revealing imperfections. she stays. she watches.
more heat comes from her gaze than my fires.
the air is thick. mouth drops open. eyebrows scrunch.
incoherent sounds release from my lips. she sits. observes the show.

she takes me in. all of me. even the parts idon'twanthertosee.
and writes. and listens. and examines.
she unravels my fantasies and spins her own story.

let’s live suddenly without thinking

under honest trees,
                        a stream
does.the brain of cleverly-crinkling
-water pursues the angry dream
of the shore. By midnight,
                                a moon
scratches the skin of the organised hills

an edged nothing begins to prune

let’s live like the light that kills
and let’s as silence,
                            because Whirl’s after all:
(after me)love,and after you.
I occasionally feel vague how
vague idon’t know tenuous Now-
spears and The Then-arrows making do
our mouths something red,something tall

Stuck.
Nothing.
Nada.
Zilch.
Zero.

(i'll tell you a truth if you come real close)

I've run out of ideas.
my mind does not work

From the Order. Logic. Brains.
The. Sanctuary. Of. Day. To. Day. Life.

to something that is all
asdfghjlmtrvscex;nszgxkla
and
idon'tevenknowhowi'mformingthis­sentencerightnow
itdoesn'tevenmakesense

In truth, this isn't really a poem.
Just the ramblings of a crazy girl

whosjustadmittedthetruth

IDO NT MATT ERID ONTM ATT ERID ONTM ATTERID ONTMA T TER IDON TMA TTE RI DON TMA TE RIDON TMATTE RIDONT MA TTE RID ONTMATT ERIDONT M ATTERI D ON TMAT TERI DO NTM AT TERIDO NTMA TT ERI D ONT MA TTERID O NTM ATTERIDONT M ATTERI DO N TMA TTERI D ONTM A TTE RID ONTM A TTE RIDO NTMA T TERIDONT MA T TERID ONTM ATTERID ONT MATTE RIDO NTMATT ERIDON TMA TTE RI DONTM ATTERI DON TMA T T ERIDONTMA TTERID ONTMAT TER IDONTM AT TERIDON TMA TTERI D ONTMA TTERID DONT MAT TERID ON TMAT TER IDONTM ATTE RI DO NTMA TTER

You’re surrounded by people
But all of a sudden you feel alone
You feel exposed
Feels like you’re nothing but skin and bone

You try to escape
But you’re trapped and you cant leave no more
Try to break the chains
But they’re stuck on you
And you Cant breathe no more

Try to take a deep breath
But it’s short and abrupt and almost dead
You try to complain
But they say that it’s just all in your head

Try to cry out
But my voice breaks halfway through the scream
I try to move
But im paralyzed it’s like im in a dream

I try to break down
But it’s hard and i cant seem to cry
I know you cant relate
But for gods sake you dont even try

I try to be cool
to smile for the cameras around me now
But the flashing light is blinding
Try to capture a smile but idon’t know how

I try to stay strong
But i feel like the load is just too great
I try to man up
But i just cant bear the heavy weight

I try to be happy
But it feels like everything makes no sense
“ lighten up” “ be grateful”
oh come on LAWM, “ stop being so tense “

I try to love myself
I try so hard to smile at the girl in the mirror
But i steam up the place
Let the fog stop it from getting any clearer

I try to be positive
Try to make the sky clear inside my head
But i cant bring myself to
And reality hits me before i go to bed

I try to stay present
The past just chases after me
Cant cut to the chase
It captures me and drowns me in misery

Try not to regret
Any decision ive made so far
That Ive let myself down
No longer do i shoot for the stars

I try to focus
But all i seem to be doing is getting more angry
At myself and the world
I just sit and stare at my books so blankly

I try to be a good friend
But all i seem to do is focus on my sorrow
Try to be there for her
But what she doesnt know is id give her my strength to borrow

Try to give her my world
Id give her my heart my body my soul
But all i can do
Is selfishly act as dry as coal

I try to be a good daughter
But all i do is make them pay some more
Like i own Their bank accounts
Until they empty to the core

I try to love
But love just seems to break my heart
I trust it give it my all
But it Pushes me around, and tears me apart

I try to help others
But i just cant seem to help myself
I bury myself in my pessimism
And stack up all my  problems in a shelf

I try to remember
Who i once was long ago
But the seeds i once had
i have no more water for them to sow

I try to be me
The person i once was one day
The bravery and confidence
But the love i had for myself’s faded away

I try to go back
To fitting in all the things i once wore
Bigger arms hips, stomach and *******
I grab and beat up until im sore

I try to calm down
But the anger it just wont go away
I try to leave this place
Try to get myself out of here everyday

I try to move on
But moving on is easier said than done
I try to forget
But it all burns me like the heat of the sun

I try to stay still
But i shift and fidget and stumble then fall
I try not to tremble
Fearing that i wont stand up at all

I try to get up
But the weight it just holds me down
I want to be the queen of my heart
But Failure never really came with a crown

I try to Hope
I try to find Him when Im lost
But I pushed Him away
And i know that pushing him away comes at a cost

I try to stay alive
But the thought of death bombards my brain
Try to focus on the good
But when i do, i remember the pain

it's not about the
way you look at me at
three am in the morning
or the fact that
idon'tthinkyouloveme,
('causeiknowyoudo)

it's more the whole
im-not-sure-who-i-am-anymore and
i-need-you-to-tell-me-the-right-answer.

it's that sometimes,
just once in a while
i'd like for you to tell me that
you need me a wee bit
(i know it's against your
i-need-noone-'cause-i-don't-care-about
anyone-more-than-they­-care-about-me philosophy,
but could you, just once in a while,
tell me what i need to hear?)
I know honesty's the best policy
and all that sort of
over-estimated crap

but once in a while
i'd like for you to lie

it doesn't happen. So. often.
waking with the tears° in° my° eyes°
ive gone 23 days withoutathoughtofyou
Ok...ma _ y _ be a few
the tears flow none/the/less
so//i supppse//i'm still st. U. ck I; guess

I think//I think//Toooooo MuCH

keep {shuf{flin{ggg through
it'snotevenreallyaboutyou
~ who/who,.. I barely even knew
it's the 》flight》 you found and how the ^hope^ you planted healedthesore
...oh hell; I-don't-really-know-anymore
your words s. e. E. p. Ed in&p;  _ ulled the trigger; on a belief of what was pos/si/ble;
a ch _ ance #something bigger,...

,... Ididn'tevenknowthat I needed

It's a bitter bite that now lives. in. my. chest.
having caught-a-glimpse-at-what-was-best
...in me,..in you... in po\ten\tial\...in truth
,...but then, a>>>>>gain...
That's _ what _ poets _ do _
& the ~poet ~ is ~ you
you own. ed. me with. words.
Idon'tknowifi'llever ,...,...recover

iobey #meweak #isubmit #mefollow
#idon’tthink #pleasedon’tdisapproveofme
#itoo #allin #mecomrade #iobedient
#idesperate # mecabbage #Ilabelled

#ilicensedmerchandise #meclothingtag
#willyoubemyfriend? #mehatewhatyouhate
#idoasiamtold #mehavenocharacter
#ichantanddanceandwave#mesacrifice

          ­They’ll hate you, you know, if you walk away,
          Think for yourself, and refuse to obey



(The first line should begin with the little ******* of our time; this machine does not agree, and so has omitted it.  Perhaps as a brave machine it refuses to obey me! )

we are
the po _ : ems andtherhymes
finish. my. thought. with. my. thought.
un\ex\pect\ed
out of time
so >caught >up
idon'thearthechimes any//more
wander&wonder;
¿what was it for¿
what. was. it.
for.

Red, I feel red.
I feel like
Comptine d'un Autre été: L'Après-Midi
Blue, I feel blue.
I feel like
Victor’s Piano Solo
Green, I feel green.
I feel like
To Build A Home
Orange, I feel like orange.
I feel like
Wicked Game
Yellow, I feel like yellow.
I feel like
idon’twannabeyouanymore
Black, I feel like black.
I feel like
Free The Animal
Purple, I feel like purple.
I feel like
Leave Me Alone (feat. Caitlin Henry)
~

Idon'tknow
.....how to stop. it.
O
Ver
Whelm.
.ed
You.
Your words
.....voice.....
So many things to say, to say,...to SaY
You.
Your. Eyes. Separate sentences...
Mouth. and Lips, lips, lips, That should be in my//mouth.
Smile 》》
My. chest. is. Tight
Clinching., l;,....
{silly me\silly me}
...Oh. dear. God. how _ I  _ could _ love you
I know/no/now
therearesomany miles, mountains, days be....tween....
& so
i Walk Alone,....won. der. ing upon
the tortured soul,...
....you seem to be;
holding.

some broken poem lives(idon'tknowwhere)won't let word or sound touch its thin thighs and scarred knees from being on them between the knees of boys too many times; demure and easy as rain in April where Christ is born again to the rough feeling of a broken poem in the backseat of her car running with face of eyeliner and still trying to be pretty.

I never knew that you are the cure
until you entered into my life
the one who can make some magic
removing all the doubts filled in
the one who made me realize that
I can give one more chance to trust someone
there is no way that world is wrong
instead I where the one to whom it show all the wrong

Then, the day I realized
I promised my self not to leave you no matter what
I knew you were cold but
that was far better than promises they made n left like a stranger
I knew you were not much into talking but
fortunately the best listener to my depressed mind
I knew
I knew you were not an attention seeker but
the now me #idon'tcare is all learnt from you
There were times where life bought me down
but in the bad rainy days YOU TOOK ALL MY WORRIES AWAY

To my bestfriend who made my life glow again
entered during my dark days
I wish I would get a word greater than 'thank you' to say for everything

the beautiful boy


the beautiful boy,           now.   a memory
wagging a tail

forced to sell
   weeds
                                  listening to a stale
noise,

        in a tin can.


I HAVE a 2-day pass to Wendy-

fork
with. no expectation.


BREASTfeeding.  the. nine-month old in a hot bench whilst people walk bye.
      facetattooos- and excitacy with the ****** firmly plugged in.

drifting away
driftin away

I am dying

I am dying literally, I.    feel the pulse fading.
1 2. 3.  4 5. 6 7. 8



pidgeon jesus,  Muhammad ****** my ***, buddha lives in LA,

cut out my heart;
ventricles
blues
.

I have no one

I have. NO ONE.       NO ******* ONE.
BUT A SVEN in Norway;

blackened by the bite of a hand.


recluse,
no more.  forgotten. my last name is EARNest

I DONT' care anymore.  idon't care anymore. I gave up,
I moved. 50 degrees south,

I'm drunk,
I'm high. I 'm a nobody

just someone who wanted to ******* LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE


I feel the breeze