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Willow Silvera Feb 2020
The Giraffe is towering
And stands strong among others
But starts to gently weep
For It has promises to keep
Tormented with nightmares
The city never sleeps
Silence has forever deceased

Spotted with rusted windows
Reflecting a scatter of light
And wired with secrets
Hundreds of heartbeats
Tucked inside
Pressed between
Specks of saffron and chestnut
Looming in the smoke and sun
Unable to walk

The thudding of footsteps
Thundering in it’s chest
A frigid, monotone humming
Echoing
Through it’s internal core
Eyes dark as ink
Stars caught between
Luminously gleaming in the night
Forever standing still
Watching the years pass by

Observing day after day
Faces linger in memory
Learning every detail by heart
And staring into the horizon
Hoping to one someday
Touch the sky
Willow Silvera Feb 2020
We’re all puppets
With scripts to follow
And strings attached
Whether we like it
Or not
Blinded by their lies,
Surrendering to illusions,
Pledging to the Puppeteers,
Above us

Tied to coarse string at birth
All we know is
Curtains hanging
To keep
(Protect, they say)
Us from
Reality

The ones we willfully
Placed on their gleaming
Ruby-encrusted thrones
We gave them wine
Made from our blood.
In Return,
They changed
Our veins to sap
Our flesh to wood.

And so
We, the People
Politely clapped
And nodded.
We, the People
Supported the idea of banishing
Our own kind.
We, the People
Cheered and yelled when the Grand Puppeteer
Ordered for us to be
Isolated and confined
From the Others.
Welcome to the Land of the Free!
Willow Silvera Feb 2020
I watch you walk away
As the ground splits between us
Your slender figure
Becomes small
You leave me there
On the Other Side
With tears dripping down my cheeks.
I can still see
Your ebony hair
Blowing in the wind

There is always the Other Side
It has taken away from me
My old life
Filled with joy
Leaving me with this
Cracked and broken
Fragment of an existence
I try to reach out my hand
Covered with scars
But my demons won’t let me
They circle my head
Telling me to surrender

I almost do.
But deep inside
My chest
I know I never will.
I’ll keep fighting.
For you.
Always
For you.
Willow Silvera Feb 2020
I sometimes wonder
What the End is like
My last thoughts
And how I would surrender myself
To the Universe
Whether it would be an accident
Or me finally raising a white flag
I often imagine a man
With gentle, blue eyes
that remind me
Of Spring
Dressed in black
Holding a Sunflower
Carrying me away
To a place made of darkness and stars
Than lightly letting me go

He wraps my fingers
Around the stem
Of the wilting Sunflower
He once carried
And I tighten my grip.
Leaving me to forever float
In this strange place
He waves goodbye
with a look of
Melancholy
On his pale freckled face
And turns around
Never looking back

As I glide in the dark
My thoughts
And memories
Drift away
Making me an empty shell
Made of flesh and bones
With only
A drooping Sunflower
To analyze
For the rest of forever
The End of Everything.
Willow Silvera Feb 2020
A street full of faces
Not worth remembering
Children hand in hand
Leather jackets and
Laughing
Old men sitting at the
Faded yellow curb
Cigarettes in gnarled hands
Smoke drifting in the air

Only those who truly believe
In Magic
Will see the Magician
With dark eyes
Holding the universe within
Her hair long and sleek
Like a raven’s wings
A crimson cloak billowing
Behind her silk top hat
Wearing a vintage coat
With glazed silver buttons

Her raspberry lips always
Carry a lingering smile
When you walk up to see
Her. And ask
For a trick.
She’ll lean down almost
Touching her pointed nose
To yours
And softly ask you,
In a voice that sounds like
Cold water trickling down
A stream
Do you believe in Magic?
And look deep into your soul
While you find an answer.
Yes.
Willow Silvera Feb 2020
When you call my name
The world stops moving
The universe pauses to listen
Fireworks go off in the sky
A moment brimming with magic
Before time continues to run

When you look into my eyes,
A smile caught on your
Strawberry field lips
I feel the ocean inside of me
Crashing waves and sweet sea breeze
Your eyes might as well be
The summer sky

Your mind is geared like a
Vintage watch and you
Peer into the quiet corners
Of the world, the small things.
You laugh when you catch me
Staring at your streaked blonde
Locks of Hair and
When I seem confused

I would like to have the chance
To talk to you forever
And to hear you
Call my name
Over and over again
Willow Silvera Feb 2020
I am trapped inside my mind
Trying to shove past my skull
Without cracking it
So I run a million miles away
But I don’t know
How to come back
And truly stay

I am drowning in my universe
Going deeper and deeper
As time glides past me
And everyone leaves
Because
What if I fall?
What if my feet plunge
Through the tiles?

My mind is my
Escape
(Prison)
Liberator
(Captor)
Yet I cannot live without this.
It has become a part
Of who I am.
Who am I?
And how can I leave?
When I want
(Need)
To
Stay.

— The End —