I sleep so perfectly when you are in bed with me
listening to your breath
and heart break
calms my soul
and i am not stressed about you
i know i am safe in your arms

Water fills my lugs till the point where I don't
have space
like a field of lavender flowers
where I'll stay
forever

Its 4:29 in the afternoon,
But it feels later.

The sun is still up,
But the blinds are drawn.

Its still warm outside,
But I'm wrapped in a blanket.

I still have stuff to do,
But I don't have the energy.

Maybe I will later,
But not right now,


And thats okay.

everything I did
didn't make sense at all

same with

What I did for you
you didn't feel anything

It's feel something more crazy than I jumb into big river
My hearth just metled in every side

you
just you..
what anything else?
it was cool
I could felt it
thanks before

It’s that time of year when
Candy canes appear
Silver tinsel glimmers on trees
Wreaths are hung

It’s that time of year when

Precious ornaments are taken out
Beautiful ribbons tie up packages

It’s that time of year when

Carols are sung
Churches put on their Sunday best
Joy and cheer are felt
Kindness abounds

It’s that time of year when

Smiles are brighter
Laughs heartier
Love is deeper
People care and hug more

It’s that time of year when
Towns and cities decorate
Snow lightly blankets the ground
The world slows down just a bit

It’s that time of year

I remember the evening
that we sat clinging
to paper cups
of coffee gone cold

over secrets spilled and memories told
two bodies cursed
with hearts grown old

behind your eyes
I found new worlds
A winding road stretched out for miles
to a small cafe at the end of the isle

Sweet pastries filled the mouths
of those who sat beside us
and stayed for a while.

How the hours went by,
people just passing through
The descending sun ending
a forever with you.

Why do men always interrupt me?
I could have discovered the cure for cancer
And they would interrupt me to talk about their weekend

I'd have to talk like them in order to be heard
But I was taught to stay quiet so that I don't cause anger
And I feel pain in my heart when my own voice gets louder

Why the **** do I put up with this?
Why do they scare me so much?
Why can I never speak up?
Why don't I matter?

Love is not a desire to contain
Or possess.
Love is a desire to set free.
To help someone see themselves
The way you see them.
To see someone become
The truest representation
Of themselves.
To want happiness and contentment for them.
Love in its truest, rawest, and most beautiful form
Desires these things
With no regard for self.

I long

To linger no more
      in the hallways of amnesia;
      A clearing of the iridescent haze
      Into a world beyond ー

To sing here no more
      the sound of soulless sorrows;
      Echo into the distant
      Scapes and seas ー

To see no more
      the sights untold;
      Watch men erode,
      Pale petals unfold ー

And fall back on an unbroken dream.

i miss you so much,
that sometimes i wish we had never met.

but at least i got to call you mine,
even if just for a little.

Cold and damp, swamped by dismay
She left me, on this fragile Saturday.
Here I sit, on a porch for a day.
I never thought I’d travel off.
When you realize, there’s nothing left to say...
You arm yourself, emotionally, in another way.
Not to dare say nostalgic, that’d be careless to relay.
I’d rather scoff at the notion, of caring at all.
So, I’ll just sit and stare, as my friends come and go.
I’ll wait, patiently... my mind blue with frost.
No thanks, I’ll wait... no matter the cost.

I want you
But I don't want to

Today they are on the frontline
not because they are the leaders.
They know how to sneak their way up.

months of struggling
months of me convincing you that you're important
months of you rejecting me
months of constant battles between doing and not doing
today you let me in
today you told me you wished i was your permanent teacher
today i told you i loved you too
today, the months of battle proved to be worth it

Just a cut
just a scratch
what’s that mark
it was just the cat
just an excuse
just another lie
what’s with the bracelets
just fashion why?
just a tear
just a scream
why were you crying
just a bad dream
But it’s not just a cut
or a tear
or a scream
it’s just one more
until it’s not
until you die

dear you,

i’m in love.
yes. you were
waiting, i
bet, for this.
this time, though,
it is not
what you would
think. it’s me
this time, not
you, although
it’s still you,
but not in
the way it
used to be
you. it’s my
fault this time,
my doing,
my painful,
pitiful,
suffering.
it’s you in
the sense that
i cannot
control you.

this time,

it’s your mind and your thoughts
the things that slip off of your tongue
the words you put, pencil to paper
the ideas that come out in your songs

it’s your eyes and your sight
the careful observation of beauty
the need to bask in warm, pure light
the stare you give me, rarely now

it’s your movements and your touch
the hugs where you grip my shoulders
the times where i’m drunk and playing with your fingers
the warmth you give off and your gorgeous smile

none of them
are mine to
have, to take
to keep, to
love, to break

i miss you
and to go
and detach
to break what
we have, that’s
the hard way
out. but i
am trying
to help me.

i feel the
same way i
did when you
said i was
wrong about
this. about
how i feel.

i try to
not panic
and quiet
sob in the
bathroom at
3:27 am
every night.

i’m hoping
disposing
myself of
you, means that
the dreams will
go away
too. but if
they stay,
i’ll give you
a quick call.
probably
a text, to
be honest.

i love you,
unhealthily,
with every
part of me.

keep in touch,
please.

love,

me.

The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do?

It wasn’t you letting you go.

That was difficult though, to swallow my pride and wear a smile to hide the fact I’m not okay.

Oh no, the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do? Was finally admit to myself the truth.

It was admitting that you were never mine to begin with.

Come morning
their innocent eyes would ask
the most difficult of questions.

My heart would stall.
My tongue would stiffen.

And my eyes would answer back
with tears.

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
I wanted to say,
lock yourself in a room,
scream until you have
a poem and no voice.
Open your veins and bleed
until you know that your bones
are pure words and sorrow.
Act as if you slit your own throat
and all you can bleed
are your own regrets
and all of the darkness
you boxed up for inspiration.
Write your mom a letter,
tell her you're leaving
and you won't be back for awhile
Because being a writer is traveling
through all seven layers of ****
and denying anything is wrong.
Forget loving yourself
when all you have is a pen and paper
fused to your wrist
and Jesus is tapping at your skull
saying turn back now.
Warn the neighbors that if they smell burning
It's just your soul
clawing at the front door trying to get in.
Learn how to be alone.
Learn how to lose everything you have
in order to feel release,
learn how to only feel deceased
from now on.
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
All I said was
don't

In a

half breath

of this

moment

lying next

to you,

I have

felt more

than I

ever have

in my life.


the brushing

of my

hand through

the back

of your

angel hair,


the sleeping

of my dreams

while

lying next

to you,


then waking

up and seeing

them all

come true

in your

eyes.


and I kiss

you forever,

under broken

falling stars,


and give

you promises

to keep

deep inside

your heart.


to care

for us

and smiles

that only

we share

and laughter

that only we

hear early

under  pristine

light.


where angels

lay,

and where

after  the

still black

night I

always

reach

to make

love to

you...

this isn’t going to make sense
cause it’s not supposed to
and if I’m being honest
this isn’t for you
it’s not even for me

I’m stuck
I’m trapped
I’m lost
I’m every other word that describes people who feel at a dead end

I’m typing on a ****** phone
That’s connected to a ****** connection
That could possibly be a metaphor for my life

I’m writing
Because I don’t know what else to do

I’m writing
Cause that’s what they told me to do

But they also told me that what I think isn’t always true
That I’m special and I just don’t see it

But that’s the thing
I don’t see it

And if I don’t see it then why should it matter if anyone else does

And if I’m thinking something why should it matter if it’s true

What matters is that it’s in my head
What matters is that it’s always there

But here I am
Stuck in the same place
Back to square one
No progress made
The same questions, whether true or not

Will I amount to anything?
Do I really help?
Am I really worthwhile?
Do you actually care?

I see these people
When I’m online
They smile and post
They edit and pose

I can’t help but wonder

Do you really smile, or do you just do it to look happy like me?
Do you really feel happy, or are you trying to lie like me?
Do you understand what I feel?

Or is it just me?

I’m not trying to be selfish
I don’t want a lot
I just want to be happy
And I want others to be happy with me
But neither is happening

So instead there’s a poem
That doesn’t even ryhme
That makes no sense
  I’ll try harder

i get tattoos
to love my skin
instead of scar it

i get tattoos
to love the art
that goes into it

i get tattoos
to love myself

i get tattoos
to reclaim
what you stole

this is my body

this is my art

this is not yours

this is me

Set the alarm
Lock the doors
Lock the windows
Lock the shutters
Find the cricket bat – “put it by your bed”
Say goodnight to mom and dad

Although young, not naïve
I knew every night had the possibility of being my last

A routine that is now muscle memory.

Fear –
You may think
But life –
Normal for me.

Wake up
Turn off the alarm
Unlock the doors
Open the windows
Open the shutters
Put the cricket bat in the cupboard

Never being able to be left alone at home. Unwillingly dragged from store to store.

But – that’s the thing –
People don’t know the real Her,
They know the exquisite scenery, the unforgettable wildlife
They don’t know… But I do.
Because She is my home
Because being in constant fear for my life –
is normal.

Confused –
What do I tell people about Mother when they ask?
The person who raised me, taught me how to be grateful, how to ride a bike,         how to love.
Do I tell them? Will I scare them?

Although hidden beneath the tyranny – I would say –
the bloodshed
the faces of malnourished children left for dead on the side of the road the poverty struck soil the corruption      the greed the hunger the death the separation of class and race

Although a place feared –
Africa.

My Africa –
Whose sunshine you feel ignited in your soul
My Africa –
Whose smile is irresistibly contagious
My Africa –
Whose heart lies in the grassy terrain
The golden dunes of sand
The never-ending mountain tops
My Africa –
Who is the heart of various people
           cultures
   languages
          All who call Her home.
She is –
Where my heart lies even if I am thousands of miles away
Where my mind wanders from day to day.

Her air, instantly calls you
Her smell, instantly smelt
Welcoming you ever so dearly –
      Home.

Like all good mothers,
She is the one who can handle both the tranquil and turmoil,
the love and war.

She is my home. She is who I fear of disappointing.

My Africa –
is beautiful.

Thinking about getting a tattoo
But, I take pause...
Looking in the mirror
I see my body’s already covered
Marked in invisible ink
Every inch of my bare skin
Painted with the joy and pain of living
From my heart to my hips
Color faded here, but poppin’ over there
Memories designed by your hands
Others etched on my own
A collection that makes me smile
Among a few pieces I regret
So, about getting a tattoo...
I guess I’m not ready
Because I can’t think of a tattoo
Meaningful enough, yet
To write over any of the life I’ve lived

With some imaginary
smart people

who get me
sorry

you got caught
in the middle


Copyright@2018 Dennis Willis

I know
You care about me
10 more people do
Yet I can't get rid
Of this feeling
Of doom

I know
I have you
10 more people too
Yet I can't find a person
To talk to
late at night

A blink of words
That can't be said
Or even be written
She is poem of thousand words


She is fierce and gentle
All at once
She's a song
An unending song


She is a sparkle
She is a shine
She is the only thing
That i want to call mine

She is my everyday
And an everynight
She is every morning
And an every twilight


She is all i know
She is all i see
She is a sweet melody
She is an  unmatching rhythm

In time I saw
That there are many Autumns
Yet one and only one
is Fall

i hope that when i meet forever,
it looks like you.