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10W
The Willow May 2014
10W
I'll let the silence
speak
for what these words

won't.
The Willow Jul 2016
You said you would do anything
To be my everything.

You said "I love you"
Before I ever told you why I didn't believe in love.  

You made me question every decision that I made because I thought that I wasn't worth more.
6W
The Willow Jul 2014
6W
Watch my eyes; then you'll know.
The Willow Sep 2016
I miss someone I've never met.
The Willow Jul 2016
Remember when we knew it all?
The Willow May 2014
"I make you silky
I make you iridescent
I make you more beautiful
and valuable
than you could
Ever be without me

But stay with me long enough  
and you’ll have
Nothing left
Of yourself.

You thought you wouldn’t lose yourself
Loving me.

You were wrong."

"I'll be fine."
The Willow Feb 2018
If I think about all the ways I’m losing you,
I’ll drive myself insane.

Instead, I’ll think about everything I’m gaining:

My sense of humor back
My real laugh
My productivity
Feeling like myself again
My self respect
My voice
My time
My dreams that do not include you
The Willow Apr 2014
I am the clown whose words got taken away
traded in my voice box for an invisible box
that’s the real joke
The everyday sounds rock my world
footsteps
coins tossed at my feet
mild clapping
laughter
her laugh

You are the face that a black-and-white painted
has been waiting for

She stopped and watched
one day
her feet turned out
as if she were a ballerina
dance with me
move with me
no words are needed
I’m no good with them anyway


I’d peel off every one of my stripes to make a trail
for your daily path
so your feet don’t get wet
and it would lead you right to me
perhaps you’ll stay awhile


And yes, I’m no Charlie Chaplin, but
I would raise a big-top tent for you
complete with all your favorite animals you could
touch
and ride, we’d ride together
dance together
ballerina and mime
atop an elephant
because our love would know no
realm
I cannot do this for real
I haven’t the money

my coins aren’t enough
but I do have my gloves
and with them
I can create worlds
Your imagination is a must
our love would know no realm


You understand how I feel
because we are both movers
we communicate what we cannot say
through our bodies.

You must know
But without words I am simply an act
an interesting act
to mix up your day
I wish you could take this clown seriously

J. Alfred Prufrock
You’re the only one that can speak for me
you write braille on my veins
As they pump blood I can feel the words jumping
“Do I dare? Do I dare?
Do I dare disturb the universe?”



I traded in my voice for a reason not to speak
Would I break who I am if I broke my word?
The Willow Aug 2016
Depression is the side of my ribs aching
Anxiety is my sternum tapping and breaking

But caring about you is the buzzing in my head
Trying to sort out what is still alive
And what should be left for dead.
The Willow Aug 2017
When the thought of you hits, it does so
Like a tsunami,
Unexpectedly,
In the middle of the day, mid-conversation
With someone.
My eyes fill with a storm,
My fingers tap like I'm playing the guitar against my fingertips,
I have checked out from people words.

Some joke,
"Where's the fire?"

Don't you understand?
He doesnt have to touch me
Doesn't have to speak to me
To make me think that when he was 20
He used to wear as much color in his clothing as he could
Two bandanas around his neck as once,
And nothing felt more right to me than
This bright boy wearing the human eye's equivalent to this inside of his soul,
No matter the loudness.

And all he wears now is black.

I can't forget that.

So you ask, where's the fire?
He is gone now.
All that is left is ash.
The Willow Aug 2016
I hold everything I could want from you
in the palm of my hand,

everything,
but the love that would make me special, and not just
a drug to take
a nutrition shake
a screen
a meme
a thin line of white
I can see you're not all right

You are addicted to something you've never taken
and I could be your release.
The Willow Feb 2018
Get out of my lungs.
Get out of my throat.

My mind swallowed you
and now there is no space for me to live

Get out get out

get out

can't you see I am drowning
I am
drowning

in the possibility

that you may never
come back

I am under the ice, unable to get to the surface
that is the fear that
you
may
never
truly


leave.
The Willow Feb 2018
When I met you
A part of my soul was returned to me
Through you I breathed a full breath for the
first time in this life.
And I thought, how beautiful it is to breathe.

But now I am on fire
Can you see me burning?
Tonight I begged God to have me drop dead while you were singing
I begged him because my soul is much too heavy now
And without your healthy hands to help me
I’m afraid it’s too much for me to breathe.
The Willow Mar 2017
I looked down from the plane window
and saw lines.
Huh, I didn't know that borders were there, like on a map.
Then I realized, those weren't borders,
they were roads.
The perceived borders in my mind were actually the roads for where I get to where I need to go.
The Willow Feb 2018
You may meet someone you believe you’d
Met before.

I believe you.

You may fall in love with this person
Very quickly.

I see it.

You may have such deep insight on who they are as a person, want to always be there to see them for the beautiful soul they are,
Even when they cannot.

That’s real.


But in all this talk of soulmates,
Never forget,
You are your first and last soulmate,
And if anyone,
I mean anyone,
Makes it harder to be your own soulmate,

Than they might have known you before this life,
But they can’t continue living it with you.
The Willow Dec 2015
Heartbreak nights
Your face is cold
The air kisses it
But you're used to warmth.
Where did it all go?
The Willow Jul 2016
At first, I thought you were insincere. // At first, I thought you were insincere.

You followed the two date curse. // You didn't want me to run away.

You pinned my imagination to the stars. // You planted me in Baby's Breath on the earth.

You broke my ribs, pushed them over Jenga-style. // You held ribs in place for healing's sake.

You were a relief of a goodbye. // You were an unexpected hello.

You were my Icarus. // You were my Atticus.

Adventurine // Amber green.
The Willow Dec 2016
I return to my home
back to earth from Cloud Nine
and my neck bends down
spine tattooed with the epitaph of
"Has-been Family."
"Love Forgotten."
"Complacent Connection."

"Maybe it's time to let him go."
"But this felt different."
"Maybe it was more for you than for him?"
"We'll see."


I can feel the stale love on your breath
I can feel it in the way that you are safe
in the way you write to me
me
the one who cried in your arms in the backseat when
I couldn't feel anything except grey
I was bogged down and you were my safety
you were my home
my love
my connection
you
you are so safe from me now.
The Willow May 2019
Sitting in a coffee shop
Who knows what’s going on?
Who’s swallowing *******
That I could stomach this late in the day?

Will it make me jittery?
Will it help me sleep at night?
please could you tell me
Why we all found ourselves here at this moment?

Who here is the loneliest?
Who here is closest to death?
Who here is going to make love tonight
To the love of their life?

Anyone?
Is there anyone?

Is there anyone here in love and not in coping?
Anyone brilliant without *** smoking?
Anyone grounded with a bad past?
Please, tell me if I can make it through this life alive.
The Willow Dec 2015
away we go
to the Comatose Bay
where the Dead come alive
but in the modern way

where the eyes once masked
by hellish Fiends
have lost their leashes
and now they are seen

by the Comatose Bay
they have tea stands, their mugs
are soaked with the leaves
of the motherless hugs

and the Culprits, they couldn't
know what they had done
there's a sting in their touch
for the Motherless Ones

come one come all
to the Comatose Bay
where the Saints come to die
and the Atheists pray
where Visionaries shrivel
and the Dreamers decay

Come, come if you must,
but don't you dare stay;
for the Comatose Bay
is dear Death's cabernet.
This was written in one of my darkest moments of depression,
a moment where you sincerely believe
there's no point in living.
The Willow Nov 2015
I
want
to feel
happy
again.

Even if my head doesn't agree.
I will fight it.
I will fight to live.
The Willow Sep 2016
Every day I decide that you
were never meant to be.

Every night I write an antithesis
on that fact.

But I learned that sometimes hope isn't
holding onto the belief
that you will come back someday,
but that regardless of our time together,
there are happier stories in store.
The Willow Mar 2018
I plan to write a poem a year from now
Naming all the things I’ve done without you
And all the things I’ve done because of you.

I don’t know what the first one will look like yet,
But I plan the second
To look something like this:

1. Wrote a lot of poetry
2. Wasted a lot of time
The Willow Mar 2018
While you broke it off last night
With a girl you discovered was crazy

I was shaving my head in my bathroom
Cutting every tie to guys I had,
Using a hand mirror
To get the angles I couldn’t see.
I am relieved that no one will want to date me now.

Would you like to borrow my mirror?
Maybe you could see the way
You are deciding that I am back in your life
But I haven’t agreed to anything yet.

I am listening to Jeff Buckley
In my car
And I cannot cry
Now, at last, I say to myself,
I know what kind of girls
You think are worth your time.
The Willow Sep 2016
Internal
The invisible brushing of the air around my skin
the pull of my bones to a directionless destination
it is silence in a mind that is screaming
it is stillness in the time of ascent

External**
I look for your color in the eyes of the many
I look for the color that doesn't exist
Until you see it, it's unexplainable.
Please come home to a place you've never been.
The Willow Mar 2018
I’m drunk on pills
Feeling an attack on the back of
My head
Getting louder
Who’s there?
It’s him.
What’s that?
Everything you could never say.


I dream of living in a place
Where I can tell you how much I’ve thought
About you
Where every painting
Music written
Smile given
Is equivalent to how much I write about you
Boy
How much I think about you
Boy
If you ever found me
My heart
Apart
It’d be
The start
Of the end
“We’ve been over this”
You said
We never really spoke of it again

Our breakup hung heavy
It lightened up
But I still wonder
If it haunted your shoulders
The way it haunted mine
Whispering in your ears all the reasons
You could never be happy.
The Willow Dec 2018
But what if I’m a closeted *******
I find myself hurting in ways self imposed
I can’t breathe easy for long without choking myself
I cannot understand how someone drinks for fun
I cannot understand breathing clean air for long
The Willow Jan 2016
Everyone wants to be a beautiful crier.
Everyone want to still see in their shattered mirrors of their souls.
Everyone wants their arguments moving and powerful,
like a scene from a movie,
with the other person really being put in their place, because they were
so wrong.
Everyone wants this, or to not have it at all.
Everyone wants to be themselves, but only in their best,
happiest,
cleverest moments.
Everyone wants to be adored, but we must never show
that their love affects us, because to need other is weak, and
independence is strong.
Everyone hates to be wrong.
Everyone is the protagonist in their own story, and so if
others are hindering us and our goals,
they must be the enemy, they must be bad.
The thing about broken mirrors though,
is that some of the pieces are missing, but that doesn't mean it isn't
still a part of you.
So we must bounce our reflections off of others' mirrors
(this is necessary)
so we may see all our broken souls exactly as they are: beautiful.
The Willow Jun 2014
I’m trying to shed the memory of you
Not like a light jacket that you can just put on and take off as you please
As the weather changes,
But with all the effort of removing an exoskeleton;
It only comes with time.

I’m trying to shed the very skin that allowed me to love you and to
Question everything.

The scales on my spine reminding me that I have one,
And that I don’t have to be pushed into things

Who am I kidding.

I wasn’t pushed into anything.

I just believed the things I shouldn’t have
And distrusted the things I should.
The Willow Aug 2016
As you emerge from your wide awake state of sleeping,
See where he is standing. Look your demon in the eye.

This will keep you from being surprised when he hits.

As you sit up, acknowledge him, but do not ask about his schedule for today. His agenda does not define you.

This will keep him unwelcome.

When a friend taps the window since you’ve barred the door, don’t ignore her because you’re afraid that she’ll drown in your unwelcome shadows. She’s trained in the art of holding her breath.

This will keep you connected.

If he has you by the neck, break the rules and fight back hard, but with kisses and laughter and soft, pretty things.

This will keep you kind.

Most importantly, when he has you pinned, and
your sternum feels like it’s magnetized to the floor and
your neck is weary because your head has a fear of falling and
your hope took a day trip to a happier place, look up.

Look up to the sunrise of another day
victorious.
The Willow Oct 2017
Marriage is failing
over
and over
and over
And over again
And having someone you love witness it
And watch you fall.

And doing it right back with another person.

*I believed all my life vulnerability was honesty. Now I believe it is being truly seen.
The Willow May 2014
I can eat again.
My stomach allows me

It’s read through its dietary needs that it thought it needed but didn’t
In the magazines
in the waiting room
for an appointment
with my brain

Problem: get a clue.

Love is real, but realistically you can
Never
Be with him.

It’s as realistic as my stomach going to the doctor and expecting
It to be cheap visit.

But love isn’t cheap.
Love is expensive
It costs a lot to care.
The Willow Nov 2018
My wings are smoothed out
I am crashing
flying to get to you
Flying home
bound by the weatherman’s voice
Saying it’ll be smooth sailing
No sign of failing
My heartbeat is failing
Favoring ailing over being without you

Don’t smooth me out
Keep me rough
So you can get a good grip on me
So I don’t lose my grip on reality
Stay with me
I am crashing
Stay with me
It’s smooth sailing to say
we’re just good friends
No repremends

Unleast until my heart gives out .
You can’t say a word to them, because then there would be consequences. But I am a time bomb, waiting for when this lack of talking on your end blows up on mine.
The Willow Dec 2015
The part of me that wishes more than anything to have a mother to talk to
is locked up tight.

It clangs on the bars from time to time.
Begging for attention.

It's grey, felt skin
on fire.

But when it gets slipped a key by the circumstances that trouble me most,
it burns my guts
and I can't breathe

because the brand of loneliness I inherited from my mother
is grief of the unwanted, and it is not subtle.

It is searing.
It is agonizing.
It is abandonment.
The Willow Jun 2014
What I wouldn’t give to fall out of love as quickly as I fall into it
What is the fare to pay for such a thing?
Where is the fair in playing such a game?
The Willow Jul 2017
I am not a candle
Conveniently lit and blown out
When it is needed for a moment
To discern the objects in the dark.

I am the eternally burning sun.
The Willow Aug 2016
If falling asleeping on my chest was a sign of affection
Wouldn't you still be talking to me?

If cradling me protected my love as much as my body
Shouldn't I not be bleeding?

If kisses were promises
Would the world stop burning?
The Willow Jul 2016
You drove me home
I hadn't seen you for months
And though you kept
the conversation up
I had never known such dead space to exist between two friends.

The trust I had for you left
Around the time
You stopped seeing me as anything but a body.  
The respect I had for you left
Around the time
You thought it appropriate to tell me exactly that.
The Willow Feb 2018
When I am happy and excited for the future
I get sad
Thinking how you should be here too
That everything good in my life holds a blank line for you to fill yourself in
But you choose
Over and over
To remain out of that slot

Please.
I want to be happy
But I also want to be happy
With you there too.
The Willow Feb 2018
(There are two characters in this particular story:
Him and You.)

He never thought of me as a poet, though I have written more poetry about Him than anyone else before.
I wrote a poem about him, spent hours on it, hummed it on a stage,
I got so close to the mic for comfort
I felt I was supporting myself on His secondhand drunken breath.
I once read it out loud to him, and it got lost in His head,
and I am unsure if He was ever aware of poetry He dismissed.

But You. You considered me a poet almost from the start,
I could see it in the way Your eyes were trying to tell Your mouth the words it needed to adore me, but Your mouth fell blank,
and so chose into kissing instead.
At least, that's how it went in my head.
You were upset with me at how little poetry I had written about You,
and even to this day, though we are apart for three years,
You still read my words.

Why?
Why do you still read?
Is it to make up for the words You skipped over in my eyes when You were close enough to read my irises?
The Willow Feb 2018
It seems so much more personal than a relationship
Because if you split up a relationship it is
“We just want different things”
Or
“I’m in love with someone else. It couldn’t be helped.”

But a friendship
The one where they have seen you at your absolute worst
More than anyone else in the world
Where they could make you smile instead of thinking about dying
Where being friends was the best thing ever
Because it wouldn’t have to ever end

How do you break that up
When the only reasons seem like
“I just don’t like you anymore”
And
“You are so bad for me”

*there is peice of you that exists in me too
That I have yet to find in anyone else in the world
How can I abandon that?
The Willow Jul 2016
In the questions repeated
Or the questions unsaid?

The connections rekindled
Or the ones left for dead?

Is it in the way I speak to people too much
Or the way silence has left a mark?

Is it in the way I can't ask for help at all
When all I want to do is ask and ask and ask and ask and ask
How you are.

Do I ask for help every time I color my hair red
Or the way I cut your hair?

I need help
But vulnerability is a vice too dangerous to carry around
I didn't get a concealed carrier permit for my loneliness
So I just plan to never use it against someone.
They'll never have to know as long as it never shows.

I showed you. But vulnerability is a vice:
Too dangerous to fake,
And too unrewarding to be real.
How do I heal?

How do I scream yell fight bite cry out that I'm feeling things but what are they all for?

Love.
Love.
Love.
How do I care for it?
Where is the instruction manual to this creature called love and how do you get it to not **** you when it turns to night?

I just want to make things right.
To not be deceivable
To be believable to even the critics of the show in my head.

How do I ask for help
When I don't even know if you're the one who can help me?
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