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Allyson Walsh May 2017
hands shaking.
woke up
jilted

mind drifting.
dreaming about
you

trouble separating
rem from
reality

he's beckoning
for gentle
touches

yet im filtering
your entirety

straining
your existence

out of
dream-state

asking myself
for the source
of infliction

finding it
in an
expression
For WY

After months of ignorance, you chose to give me a prolonged familiar expression. That half-smile. Those brown eyes. Your long strides. You ripped the skin right off my back in the way that you rip the sheets off of your bed. For the last moment we will have.
Allyson Walsh Sep 2017
you have cracked yourself open
like a shell-less egg
shown me the etched scars
on your tender flesh
unlocked your closet
revealed skeletons
unveiled completely
so tenderness could hold

-

i have been running water
soft and soothing to the touch
intent on mending the wounds
focused on bathing your cuts
strong enough to wash away
delicate enough to cleanse
a salve of healing and honey
For CCW

Let me be your healing and honey.
Allyson Walsh Aug 2015
I let him hold my heart in his hands
Hoping he would be gentle

I prayed he wouldn't leave me
Like the others before him

He was promising
His hands sheltered my beating muscle

His fingers were a ribcage
Palms - a protective skin

But the commitment wasn't enough
And he dropped my ****** vessels

He stole the pericardium away
And left me with an infection

He dangled his theft in front of me
He watched me try to mask the pain

Knowing he took the protective layer away
Adding more pain to my already battered heart.
I haven't felt this hopeless in years.
Allyson Walsh Oct 2015
Charming, he is.
Crisp like the Autumn atmosphere.

He isn't like the others;
Glancing over with greedy eyes.

Benevolent, he is.
Kind in his thoughts and actions.

Past lovers: selfish,
One-sided in their hurtful ways.

Respectful, he is.
Soft fingertips and gentle lips.

Tender to the touch;
Unlike their rough recognizable hands.

Gentleman, he is.
Holding my hand and kissing me goodnight.

Wanting to take things slow;
Unlike their eager palms.

Tranquil, he is.
Calming my nerves and fears.

Steady in his demeanor...
Constant to his very core.
For SH

Thank you for treating me like gold.
Allyson Walsh Apr 2015
So much planning goes into
Events like these

Seating charts and color schemes
Catering and dress sizes
Music and a large centerpiece

Cheers to her!

What am I?
The cake on the table?
The bodies on the dance floor?

Here's to her!

Am I the veil on her head?
The lipstick on your neck?

I was probably just the ice on your car
I was probably just the tiny freckles on your arms

While you take her to bed
And I recall things left unsaid

I'll try to forget everything
Seeing that you don't need me
For TP
Allyson Walsh May 2016
Pain and agony were just an
'inseparable aspect of love's genetics.'
But I am certain
that love doesn't burn skin.
Malice, rejection, jealousy,
and abandonment
tend to set bodies ablaze.

Not love.
Love is the kindest,
passionate, and tender-hearted
emotion in this world.
Do not take sorrow
or disappointment
for love.

Love is butter.
Smooth and flavorful...
Even if it burns black
in the pan.
Butter can't burn skin.
It touches
and melts.
For myself

Woke up and wrote this a few nights ago. Forgot it was even on my phone until now.

“You never have to change anything you got up in the middle of the night to write.”
Allyson Walsh May 2015
Gather up each emotion and label them one by one, boy
Seal infatuation up and store it in the basement
Out of sight, out of mind
Forget what young love really looks like

Sort your feelings into groups, middle child
Throw joy and affection away
Sew anger and harshness into your lungs
Watch the fury spill from your tongue

Sweep the sentiments underneath the rug
This is exactly what I've learned from your mom
Desert that fabric for the next generation
Leave them wondering where they got it from

Never wear your heart upon your sleeve, son
Keep your eyes cold and your heart hard
Don't ever let the tears blur your vision
Be a man, you mindless child

Let her smile fade from your memories, my puppet
I'm the one who's supposed to control your ways
Watch her eyes turn from evergreen to poison
Because you're the one she's bound to betray
For WY
Written from TY POV
(Tell me what you really think of me. Please don't smile to my face and turn to throw a knife at my back.)
Allyson Walsh Dec 2015
I struggle to write
Of soft sunshine

Moments petal-like
Tender slivers of moonlight

It's a drawn-out fight
Describing twilight

When lover's hearts ignite
Before whispering goodnight

Tend to rewrite
Words laced with delight

Of sheets purer than white
And kisses on lover's spines

I tend to overwrite
Then leave out the highlights
For myself

I'm not sure my message is getting across to the reader. I've had a load of writer's block lately.

Holding On For Life - Ellie Goulding
Allyson Walsh Jun 2015
You stepped foot out of the car and sauntered over
I was sure I could watch you come home to me everyday
But we only had 94 hours together
Although, I craved for you to stay

We watched through the tale of The Boy Who Lived
(And you dozed through all my favorite parts)
We relived another seven years in the castle and hallows
While it was really only nineteen hours on the couch

Still, time was of the essence
It had been far too long since your hand was in mine
So, I strived to make the most of it
Before you drove back across the state line

It was during those 94 hours
When you whispered all your affection to me
The glow across your face from the television
When you told me you were falling in love with me

Those 94 hours came to an end and you packed up all your things
You placed my hand on your beating heart, sorting out every feeling
Your car then left the driveway just as easily as it came
All of our time spent apart made me realize one commodity

Absence does make the heart grow fonder
For WY
"Do you feel that? You'll feel my heartbeat again. Just give it time."
Allyson Walsh Sep 2017
don't unzip my skirt
if it's merely for my sake
be honest with me
For CCW
Allyson Walsh May 2015
He could cut his name into my skin
And I wouldn't mind
Because I would be his

He could rip out my blonde locks
And I wouldn't mind
Because he would run his fingers through my hair

He could slap me
And I wouldn't mind
Because his palms would caress my cheeks

He could curse my name
And I wouldn't mind
Because my name would leave his lips
For TP
(This is dark and not a healthy relationship)
(But that's where I was at with him)
Allyson Walsh Sep 2015
Go ahead
Pretend

Please, act like
I was never a part of your life

Ignore my existence
What is the difference?

Disregard the broken promises
Prove my hypothesis

Neglect my presence
Because there's bliss within
Ignorance
For WY. For the coward you are. For how great you are at pretending.

I see right through you.
Allyson Walsh May 2017
these days i am
in-between

not a student
yet not a teacher
waiting on a call
an interview
anything

not a lover
yet not a stranger
searching for a friend
a hand to hold
anything

not a tenant
yet not homeless
looking for a flat
a home
anything

all i am
is lukewarm
For myself
This weekend I contemplated every life decision ever made.
Right now I feel stuck.
Allyson Walsh Mar 2016
Petals between
My thumb and forefinger

Attempting to remember
What softness feels like

I'm reminded of you and
Your mother's eyes

Forgiveness used to be
An easy task

I was patient and tender
You apologized with flowers

Yet now I
Only know hardness

I am unforgiving
Like your father

You used to say
My skin was the softest substance

I know now I am cold
Like you mother's eyes

You sent me flowers
Last summer

Apologizing with their
Colorfully soft character

I forgave you.
I did.

But this time I cannot
Forgive

It's been over half a year yet
I cannot let it go

If your parents taught me
Anything

They showed me how
To hold a grudge

Hopefully the next time
You pretend I don't exist

You can see
Just how cold I've become
For WY

I can no longer forgive your 'I'm sorry's
I do not feel much for you anymore.
I wished you well. I don't know if I feel as I once did. Your coldness turns me cold.
I do not wish you well.

Needs editing.
Allyson Walsh Apr 2015
I.
See these marks on my fingers?
They're not from my bark
They're my bite's fight with dinner

II.
These cuts and bruises
Have calcium to blame
And the food my body refuses

III.
The scars on my middle and pointer
Remind me of the acid burn
That made my image so much lovelier
For myself
Not for the faint of heart.
#ed
Allyson Walsh May 2015
If I wouldn't have lost
My innocence
I wouldn't have met you
And that's something I wouldn't compromise

I fell asleep on the couch the day
You asked me to be your date
Your hands on my knees
The snow in the trees

Your arms around me before break
Inhaling your scent
Before you made sure I understood
All that you meant
For WY
(Found this saved on my phone from December)
Allyson Walsh Feb 2016
The thought of
A rod through my navel
Sent you spiraling
Into fits of rage

After we broke
Things off last summer
I cleaned my skin
And pierced away

Long wavy hair
Was my only choice
The single way
To be seen

Yet, I got the guts
To do it my way
Bravado voice;
Cutting it clean

Sweet red wine
Was a sin and a stain
"Tainted words"
Your complaint

Declared what was mine
With moscato and champagne
Flew with the birds -
Absent restraint

Ink was for
Drawing on paper
For processed trees -
Not porcelain skin

Claimed my pores
As lavish wallpaper
My own decree
You've deemed a sin
For WY

The controlling man you were (and still are).
Allyson Walsh Sep 2015
Gowns we never thought we would wear
Caps fit to ruin great hair

Gym floor shoe squeaks
Senior year: complete

Stuck between a friend and a ****
Watching the hands on the drowsy clock

Receiving a paper and a handshake
Twelve years too late

Cap in hand and smiles all around
My hat took flight, only to kiss the ground

But my timing was off
My clouded thoughts

Fuzzy and murky due to
A simple "I love you"

For the boy who waited
Seven years to say it

Know that I won't forget you
For TW
Allyson Walsh Jan 2016
Our love
Could be contained,
And easily
Spilt over.

Sopping wet,
Soaking through
The elements of
Our environment.

You were the wind.
I was the waves.
Together we created
A hurricane.

Liquid love
Attempted to
Wash us clean.
It did not succeed.

Our love
Brought on
A flash flood.
There was no warning.
For WY and our liquid love.

So replenishing, yet so destructive.
Allyson Walsh Jan 2016
There was something mischievous about
The ways of a lost boy

He was interesting and stubborn
Full of curiosity

His hair was constantly disheveled
Eyes changed with his surroundings

He was wildly lost
Yet no one dared to question him

I met him while I was adrift
Roaming through the city streets

He knew his way through the alleys
Led me and let me stay the night

His place was wild like him
Ivy crawled up the siding

But he knew how to treat a girl
Woke me with coffee and cream

This lost boy held my hand
As I made my own path

We were untamed together
Even while our time was short

He taught me the art of being lost
He showed me beauty in chaos

This lost boy was lost in the world
But I was lost in him
For NM, my lost boy.
Allyson Walsh May 2015
Nothing new
My first poem is being published
And it's about you

Not a fresh word to write
You continue to sleep in Indiana
And I'm here every night

My stanzas are dry
It's hard to write about heartbreak
Without the terror in sight

My rhymes come up short
The sound of your voice is slipping my mind
While it used to be what I couldn't ignore

Nothing's new, I swear
These last two years have passed sufficiently
Without you to bend me into squares
For TP
Will I ever be over you?
(The last line is a Death Cab for Cutie reference)
Allyson Walsh Sep 2015
There is a voicemail
Saved on my cellphone

Sixteen seconds
Of what used to be

I reach for your voice
When I cannot sleep

I press repeat, repeat, repeat
Reliving brief moments

A part of me thinks
You've saved my voice

That you reach for me
Like your arms did previously

But in your eyes, there is no one lovelier than she
Two bodies intertwine beneath your sheets

You're making memories
While I'm reliving

Moments of when you loved me
For WY.
For the voicemail I thought I deleted.

"Hey, Allyson, this is me... just... worrying about you... when... please, just call me back. Alright, bye."
Allyson Walsh Sep 2015
As I said before,
Men love me for my body

They adore the soft curves
And the pink of my lips

The arch of my back
The sweetness between my hips

My ex-lover treasured me for
My tender touch

His fingers were tiny flames
Burning to the third-degree

A new man came around
Begging and pleading

He requested the pleasure I hold
Shaking limbs and muffled moans

But I know he didn't want me
He desired the pleasure

He craved my body
For RS

(A lot of word *****)

Maybe this is too much but it all needs to come out somehow.

"Would you do anything besides ***? I want to be a better person. I really do. I just want to make someone feel good for a change. I have this craving."
Allyson Walsh Oct 2015
Why do I allow you to break me?
You're already long gone

Is there nothing else to do?
Twisted, how you love to hurt me

Kissed your knuckles
Before you "caressed" my cheek

Cleaned your knife
Previous to my inflicted wound

It hurts to hold on
But I'm having a hard time letting go

I'll need to sever my hands
And watch the maroon flow
For WY

"It'll take me a long time to get over you."

It's too bad you never truly loved me.

The blood will clot in time.
Allyson Walsh Oct 2015
Dry and cracking
My wounds scabbing
Over; displaying healing as an option

Yet it's easy
To start peeling
Away; touching the tender skin underneath

You, tender wound
Irritate mood
Your mind temperamental in every wrong way

Tending gashes
Quiet passions
Letting sensitive skin heal over anew
For myself

Licking my wounds.

Trying not to pick at them.
Allyson Walsh Nov 2015
He is the bottle of wine.
His quiet words filling me to the brim...
I may spill over.

Cautious are his fingertips;
Feeling like he's never felt before...
Taking his time.

He is the crisp Autumn breeze;
Welcoming the warmth of heavy fabric.
And gone all too soon.

His wit is automatic.
Intelligence and interest: in tune.
Thoughts do not displease.

He is an early Thursday;
Full of smiles and steaming cups...
Enjoying the stillness.

Thick in kindness like syrup;
Oozing with his sticky brilliance...
And I'm stuck, unafraid.
For SH

I think I'm fond of you.
Allyson Walsh May 2016
We were lying in the field
Behind my apartment
A mid-day meal
Wooden compartment

Your eyelashes extended
Your forehead and hairline
You intended
To find a fault line

The earth crumbling beneath
And car alarms sounding
Uncultured heath
Fractures abounding

Your dark skin mixing with dirt
Dangling from the rift
Dropping unhurt
Found gold to sift

Leaving with your small treasure
And I in the dust
Aim to measure
And readjust
For WY

A dream.
Allyson Walsh Jan 2016
Your first real love. The love who made life make sense. The love who sat next to you in silence just to be with you. The love who kissed your knuckles and your forehead. The love who carried you to bed when you fell asleep during your favorite movie. The love who was good until they weren't.

You shouldn't miss your first real love. After all, it ended so poorly. Either they cheated on you, or the two of you went your separate ways. Maybe one chose a career over you. Maybe they had no good reason to end things, but did anyway.

Yet, you're reading this; and you may still miss them. The late night phone calls. The good morning kisses. When they showed up with your favorite drink just because. You miss their laugh and the way their nose crinkled when they did. You miss the touch of their skin. You miss your first real love.

And it's hard. They might be on the opposite side of the world or a mile away. They might live in the same town or a few states away. You may see them daily on your way to class or to the copier. You may see them every few months and wish that you hadn't. You may only see them while you're cyberstalking them. But it's difficult, nonetheless.

Maybe it's even more difficult because they're so close. You wonder what it would be like to show up unannounced. Would they let you in? Would they tell you they were sorry? Would they say they missed you too? Would they hold you like they used to? Would they let you fall asleep on the couch? Would they be there when you woke? Or would they shut the door in your face?

Or because they're so far away... you feel like it really is over. You wonder how they live now. Are they still seeing their new lover? Are they sleeping around? Is that job working out for them? Is their life moving on smoothly without you?

So many questions. You over-think and over-analyze until you're turning in circles. You want answers to questions you may never get answers to. Maybe that fact makes you miss your first real love even more.

I'm gonna tell you that it's okay to miss them. It's okay to sleep with their shirt "one last time". It's okay to cry over them to that stupid early 2000's song on your way home from work. It's okay to see their car and wonder if it's them.

You'll have your good days. You'll even have your good weeks. You'll realize that many nights have passed without wishing they were sleeping beside you. You'll find yourself learning how to live life without them once more. Getting coffee for one - not two - will be second nature... and that's not a bad thing.

And when you believe that you've taken two steps forward and three steps back, you'll still pull through. One minuscule thing will remind you of them, and you may have a rough rest of your day, but you will make it.

After all, they were your first real love. It would be a shame for part of you to not miss them. They meant something to you. And you know what? You meant something to them.

You may end up missing your first real love for the rest of your life. You may go to your grave with their name on your lips... but I don't truly believe that.

You will grow. You will move past them. Life will run its course. One day, you'll learn to let them go. You'll learn to forgive them. You'll even learn to forgive yourself.

You'll miss them. And that's okay. It's okay to read this and continue to miss them. Just know that they're the one that should be missing you. After all, you were most likely their first real love.
A lot of this was for me. I hope it helps someone else though.

Not poetry. It wasn't coming out in any other form than this.

I do miss him. There are days and weeks when I miss him more than anything. Tonight is one of those nights. I was pondering the thought of calling him just to hear his voice. I needed an outlet of some sort because he didn't deserve to know that I was thinking about him. This was that outlet.

It's not fancy. It's not like a lot of my writing. All of it came from my heart though.

I deserve the best and so do you... even if we don't believe it most of the time.
Allyson Walsh Nov 2015
I'm not in love with him anymore,
But it's hard to forget...

The baby-soft black hairs
At the nape of his neck.

His sharp shoulder blades
And the scars on his back.

My fingertips recall
Each mole near his spine.

The span of his arms
So much wider than mine.

The dip in his back
And his caramel thighs.

My muscle memory
Is obsolete.

I'm not in love with him...
How could I be?

Yet, I can't seem to forget
Every delicacy.
For WY

I remember how soft your favorite shirt is. I remember how thick your hair is. I remember how broad your shoulders are. I remember where each mole on your back is.

I'm trying to forget.
Allyson Walsh Dec 2015
It is still dark
When driving through the
Morning haze.

On my way to
A job that doesn’t
Feel like “work “.

Thinking of you,
And the way your lips
Fit with mine.

The sky turns pink.
I recall sleeping
Next to you.

The clouds are orange.
Remember my nails
On your back?

Atmosphere bright.
Asking, “What is love,
Exactly?”

The sun blinding.
Blazing I miss yous;
Bright goodbyes.

I’m at work now.
Fatigued; lack of sleep
In my eyes.

Up all night
Since you broke it off
Yesterday.

I’ll brew coffee
For myself; not two
This morning.

The sky is calm -
Ordinary day.
Naked eyes.

I miss you like
You missed the desert.
No surprise.
For NM

In My Eyes - Best Coast
Don't Forget About Me - Cloves
Allyson Walsh Jan 2016
My ghost is back
And his soft brown eyes
Are here to stay

Walking the halls
With him once more
Leaves me glancing over my shoulder

He watched me sleep
Last night
I awoke to his caramel skin

He shaved his ghostly face
He now looks like the man
I fell in love with

His coarse hairs
Are everywhere
I cannot rid of them

I'm cleaning the sink
And airing out my room
His ghostly scent won't fade

I've washed my sheets
A thousand times
Yet his arms continue to envelop me

He glances at me
From corners of the room
One look pierces me

His eyes...
I cannot forget them
It is impossible to forget them.
For WY

Seeing you in an empty hallway on my way to my 8am was harder than it should have been.

Please don't look at me with those brown eyes. Just your glance pulls back the scabs. Your crooked smile reminds me of all that I've spent months trying to forget. I don't know what's worse: your ignorance or your acknowledgment.

So much of this is about your eyes. You make eye contact with me and I can hear your laugh; your true laugh. You look at me and I swear I can smell you. I see your soft browns and I can feel your breath on my neck. I can hear your voice whispering in my ear. I feel like I am remembering how it felt to fall in love... all over again. And it is excruciating.

Someday, you'll fade like a bad dream. Someday.
Allyson Walsh Mar 2017
come close
but not close enough
to touch

peer at me
but shift your eyes away
quickly

ignore me
but watch me from across
the room

breathe down
the nape of my bare neck
like before

hate me
but wish I was still in
your bed
For WY

We've always been a back-and-forth thing. This and a that-a-way.
Allyson Walsh May 2015
I tell my hands to keep to themselves
When your body is so close
Self control comes and goes
When we're all by ourselves

My lungs are on fire
As I hold your shirt to the tip of my nose
There's nothing more than what I desire
You, and you alone

The pulse in my chest quickens and surges
While I see you come and go
I miss you terribly even though
You are my most recent splurge

I grin to myself and my stomach is a balloon
When you're that dashing and grand
I'm whisked away by the touch of your hand
That night, our new moon
For WY
(I used a different rhyme pattern that I like.)
Allyson Walsh Jul 2015
Sit down at your table for a second visit
I smile without relent
For I know that I am not wanted here
But this is the mask you asked me to wear

Silent, I stand
You have claimed the kitchen as my new home
I scrub each dish until it is sparkling
But the previous chips on each plate are blamed on me

Still, I am not what you want me to be
He tells me to be myself
But, how can I?
When my very nature is considered a crime

I am not submissive; I do not fall under inferiority
I am anything but subservient
Meek
You cannot teach me to shape my personality

It is time for him to choose
Between you two or me
Hopefully one day he will leave
The two of you and cleave to me
For the part of me that refuses to people-please

"We just don't see any change. We don't think you two are right for each other. She isn't the girl for you. She is so disrespectful. She doesn't care about what we want. She doesn't show any Godly characteristics. Does she even support you?"
Allyson Walsh Apr 2016
I have covered the mirror
With notes and quotes

Painted the white walls
With acrylic and oils

Washed my spotless car
Repeatedly

Aired my apartment
Completely

I have written words
On wingspans

Carved phrases
Into his hands

Burned candles
Down to nothing

And left lights on
To hear the buzzing

I eyed my reflection
As I swore:

"I do not love him
Anymore"
For myself I guess

I've been bad with titles recently.

If I say it enough, I'll eventually mean it.
Allyson Walsh Apr 2015
I'm sure of the strength in your arms
I'm familiar with their harsh words
Their daggers sent to cause me harm
All of our "dreams deferred"

I know of every freckle on your face
I've seen many of their disgusted looks
But we've obtained our own pace
There's no need to go by the books

You know, you really are my best friend
You're the only one I don't get sick of
Your jumbled words are mine to comprehend
Even when you don't believe they're enough
For WY
Allyson Walsh May 2015
Ignore the size of the portion
This is healthy
Ignorance is bliss

Cut and slice
Count the pieces the knife and fork create
Slip into old routine

Eat one cookie... eat five
Who cares?
You're this shape already

Turn the shower on twice a day
Watch it all wash down the drain
Hate the way you adore the acidic burn

Count the numbers
You're not wiz at college algebra
But you can count the calories, pounds, and body mass

Watch the flab vanish into sweat
Run for two hours a day
Do crunches until your innards explode

Faint in the shower
Forget what time of day it is
Sleep is now nonexistent due to hunger

Ward off the war within your belly
Empty is clean
Pain is beauty

Your teeth are rotting
From the lies about your meal plan
And your citric stomach

Compare yourself to all of them
Observe the way they enjoy it
They love the freedom of cuisine

Your mouth is watering
It's a good thing food cannot travel
Through a television screen

Cry at family gatherings and holidays
Your mother's eyes glaring across the table
While you wish you could vacate the skin you're in

Uncertainty is your best friend at this point
Indecisiveness and hatred are nothing out of the ordinary
Your mere thoughts are a whirlwind

And there's nothing romantic about it
For myself
(This is the fastest free verse I've ever written)
Allyson Walsh Jan 2016
Decisions are kind of a funny concept. Some people believe that everything happens for a reason. Others believe that each decision has a domino effect on other parts of life. Have you heard of the butterfly effect? This idea believes that every decision leads to various outcomes, and that there are multiple paths a person can take. I like to agree with this statement.

Decisions are what make a person. At least, they're what show a person's character...

I observe ordinary character on a regular basis. I work at a liquor store in a town of roughly three-thousand people. I know the regulars by name, and I can tell who's had a rough day or who is excited for the weekend by what they purchase. I know when Barb is furious at her husband because she buys two liters of *** and the smokes he hates. I can tell when Dave is on good terms with his fiance because he skips the Fireball and heads straight for his 24-pack. Bob... is really just Bob. He comes in and buys a liter of coke, a liter of Bacardi, and a pack of Marlboro reds every day at 4:30 on the dot. Each of these regular's decisions display part of their character. Many of their purchases can be influenced by their emotions... but what part of life isn't?

You're probably wondering when I'm going to get to my point. That'll be a couple hundred words further. You of all people know how great I am at ranting.

How is my minimum-wage job connected to decisions and character? That's a good question. Each decision leads to a specific outcome. These decisions are based on the character of a customer. Their character is displayed in their decisions at my dead-end job. Anyway, back to your decisions.

Decision Making
Relationships are basically a hurdle of decisions. Deciding how to sleep together. Deciding the best way to kiss despite the height difference. Deciding what to say when meeting the in-laws. Deciding when to say "I love you". It's decision after decision after decision.

I like to think that each decision can lead to various outcomes. For example, if I would have never lost my virginity to a one-night-stand and cried about it to the girl living across from me, I would have never met you. So, if I waited to take off my clothes or if I cried about it to my roommate instead, this last year would have gone a lot differently.

I'm beginning to work my way to your decisions. First, let me state that you were the most indecisive person I have ever met. You were passive. You were lukewarm. You were flat. You were only certain on one thing: your admiration for college basketball.

I have to admit that you were decisive on your verdict to be with me... for a time. I guess I have to give you a little credit. You weren't all bad. There was a lot of good in you. But, there was a lot of rottenness underneath your tall, dark, and handsome physique.

The Beginning of the End
You decided to avoid a decision from the very beginning. Sure, it was me that you wanted. I mean, I was great. I still am. I may be biased, but I don't care. You wanted me... but you didn't want the price-tag I came with.

What did I tell you from the beginning? Let me refresh your memory. We were sitting on a lime green couch in the lobby of our college. It was close to midnight and I was exhausted but didn't want to be without you. I told you that I expected you to:

1. Be honest.
2. Be faithful.
3. Pursue me.
4. Make me a priority.

I didn't ask for much. I was searching for... Oh, I don't know, a relationship that sounded pretty standard in my terms. I wanted something serious, but that doesn't mean that I wasn't looking for fun or liveliness. These requests were normal, in my mind.

I then asked you if you would choose me over your mother. I knew you were close to her... and I hadn't met her yet. Also, for some reason, I already had a feeling that she despised the thought of me, and the idea of her little man bringing a girl home... (God forbid she have a brain on her head).

I didn't want to be tantalizing. I believe I am gentle in nature. But, if everything worked out, I wished to be the number one woman in your life... not your mother. I restated my question after a few beats and you continued to ponder the thought. After a few seconds you told me, "No, probably not. But I might change. I want you." That should have stopped me in my tracks.

But it didn't. We were together for about a year since that night. We kept things quiet for a few months before becoming "official" or whatever. Your decision or avoidance should have sent me running... and it did... to you.

I think part of myself knew that I deserved better. Also, part of myself believed that there was beauty in maltreatment. But, I saw potential in you. You were my best friend.

You were... I was in love with you.

I was willing to fight for us. I was willing to fight for you. I was willing to battle it out... and I saw myself coming out victorious, like the warrior I truly am... but, you were a battle lost from the very beginning.

Whatever "Fighting for Me" Looked like to You
Things got worse when confusion arose between your mother and I. She thought I was sleeping with you (when I wasn't). There was a lot of yelling... most of it was in Spanish. I was scared. I was petrified. She believed I was ******* up her perfect son. This put us on unsteady ground.

This was also the first time I saw you cry.

It was a battle between what she wanted and what I wanted. She wanted me out of the picture. I wanted you to stand up for me, and to stand up for us.

You chose me. This would be the one and only time I came out as the number one priority. I believe this was because you were over three hundred miles away from her piercing eyes and thin lips. It was easy to put us first when she wasn't there to "knock some sense" into her son.

Your mother didn't speak to you for months. She was furious. She was angry. Her dislike toward me grew with every passing day.

Letting the Bruises Heal
For the next six months, things seemed to get better. We fought but made up. We talked of the future while understanding that we were still young. We grew as lovers and as friends. We made promises and kept them.

But, the semester was ending. The snow was gone and the grass was nowhere near green. Three months of separation were just around the corner and I knew of the trials to come. I also knew that if we could make it through the summer, that we could last. That is, if we could make it with your bitter mother by your side.

Seperation Leads To...
Three months of fifteen minute phone calls every once in a while dragged on. I was patient with you. We were both working our tails off. I was taking summer classes. You spent any and all of your extra time off working for your dad or training for soccer preseason. Still, I was patient.

We saw each other twice during the summer. Those days were some of my happiest within this past year. Distance really does make the heart grow fonder. Those first moments of seeing you were like revelations. All of the time away made sense. The eight hour drive to see you made sense. We made sense.

It was during your stay at my house when I realized I didn't want to be with anyone else. Ever. It was the first time you told me you were in love with me. I felt the same. We didn't just love one another, we were in love.

It was during my stay at your house, a few months later, when I realized things were heading south.

Temptation
We fought. We fought a lot during the month before I drove to Wisconsin. It was almost daily. Somehow we made up... somehow. You were stressed and I was anxious. I was anxious and afraid.

But, I came down to see you, nonetheless. Most moments, I believed we were healed. We could conquer anything. Others... I knew your mind was elsewhere.

Although, when we said goodbye, I believed we were true. You made me a promise I was sure you would keep. Our goodbye was the second time I would see you cry.

Looking back, I think I know why. You were tempted. You were more than tempted.

Decisions and Indecisiveness
The day after I got back home, you said you "wanted to take your promise back".

Two days after that, you left home to go to a camp I knew nothing about. You "couldn't take your phone" but I knew better than that.

We went an entire week without talking. And I knew something was wrong. I had never felt so sick in my life.

You eventually returned home from camp. But, it took you two days to respond to me. Once you finally called me, you told me you "couldn't do this right now". Then you hung up. That's when I knew it was over.

I was furious. I was jealous. You were tagged in pictures on social media with a few girls in particular.

1. Phones were allowed.
2. You were awfully close to one girl.
3. You were lying through your teeth.

We met up on campus a few days later. I had a list of questions that just about vanished into thin air when I saw you. You were ruggedly handsome... And I was still in love with you.

You greeted me with a hug. I just about cried.

You explained to me that your parents gave you an ultimatum. It was me or college. Stay with me, and college was out of the funds for you. Break things off with me, and college would be paid for. You told me you chose college.

You explained how you "needed to do this for yourself".

You also told me you didn't love me anymore.

You decided against me.

The Entire Truth
I was confused. I was heartbroken. Nothing made sense. It was like you gave me a puzzle that was missing more than half of the pieces. I spent the next month trying put the thing together. I came up with one single solution... but I didn't want to believe it.

My hypothesis rang true through a friend. I believed you cheated on me. Yes, I was sure your parents pulled their big levers; but I believed you were hiding information from me. You were.

I can't go into the details because I don't know all of them. In fact, I probably never will. I've ran through every scenario a thousand times in my head, and I still come up short.

All I know are your decisions. Your decisions show your character. Your character is flawed. Your decisions broke a large part of me. I am still attempting to put myself back together.

Out of all of your indecision, out of months of tug-of-war, you were so decisive on leaving. You were set on cheating. If anything, I wish I could ask you why.

Why did I always seem to come up short? Why wasn't I good enough for you? Why did you choose money, college, and your family over me? Why did you choose her over me?

So many questions I will never get closure on.

Deciding to Decide
I have moved on... for the most part. There are still days (like today) when I miss you more than anything. But, I am stronger. I am certain that I was good enough for you, even if you couldn't see it. I am also certain that you were the first person I was truly meant to be with.

Remember when I mentioned the butterfly effect? I know that different decisions lead to various outcomes. We have the choice. We decide where our life goes (or we choose indecision).

Your decisions led to a different life. A life without me.

And I think, as of right now, I'm okay with that.
For WY

Not poetry. I don't know where else to put this.

Insanely long. A lot of ranting. A lot of heartache. A lot of decision making.

I can't pack our story into one piece... but I tried.
Allyson Walsh Jun 2015
You told me that your secondary pillow takes my place
And I would love for you to hold me that close

Place my head against your heart
Let me fall asleep to the sure thump of your heartbeat

Ease is spread across your face
There isn’t a war behind those caramel eyelids

You’ve been calm and easy-going since the day I met you
My world is off balance when you’re not here

I am a deep abyss
And above the surface, I am surrounded by hurricane winds

But you are a wide-open field
Sun above and grass below

Weigh my boldness against your quiet tongue
Intertwine our hands so tenderheartedness and fire mesh

Fall asleep next to me
So that the mattress is lumpless

While fire consumes my skin
Your tranquil waters will put the flames out
For WY
(Sleep doesn't come easy for me. We're extremely opposite, aren't we?)
Allyson Walsh Aug 2015
I took the pictures off the walls
Our memories are in a box

Your shirts and letters sit
And there the dust will settle

I do this before the trip to see you
Knowing our conversation will not end well

I’m caught in the middle of a storm
But tonight, perhaps the stars will show themselves once more

The end of us has been nothing but silence and screaming
Maybe I’m ready for you to leave

If this past year has been a story,
Then we are at the ******

And I am on the edge of my seat
Just waiting to see how this all plays out
For WY
Allyson Walsh Apr 2016
Silky smooth,
Tender veins,
Numerous petals
Smell sweet.

Beautiful.
Admired.
A spectators gaze,
Floral physique.

Made for my
Enjoyment.
Just as pretty
As He views me.

The flowers -  
Alluring
Yet, I'm lovelier
Than peonies.
For myself

Just as I see peonies as beautiful, He sees me as even more lovely.

For my next tattoo. To remind myself that I am just as beautiful as peonies. If anything, He views me as even more lovely.
Allyson Walsh Apr 2016
I never wished for my feathers
To catch fire
Unsure of who made me
This way

Losing my brilliance was never
My desire
My finale was
Excruciating

Someone once told me
That fire heals wounds
"To cauterize is to
Stop the bleeding"

This new discovery
Completely consumed.
Becoming anew
Was intriguing

The time then came
For the heat and the haze
These moments both petrifying  
And exhilarating

I touched the dark
Before I embarked
Forming from embers while I
Remembered

I am reborn
For myself

I am a phoenix.
Allyson Walsh Aug 2015
I am too emotionally drained
To write a poem that rhymes

I am sick of being a part of your waiting game
We are worth more than your procrastinated time

Oh, look, I rhymed without trying
I suppose I had it within me all along

Defy, and stop them from attempting to divide
Please destroy all preconceived notions and odds
For myself, this past month, my tired eyes, mind, and WY

"I just want you to stand up for me. Can you do that?"
"I don't know."

"Do you need to talk about it?"
"No. I just wrote a poem instead."
Allyson Walsh Dec 2015
Lately, I have been postponing
Writing about the palms of your hands.

Procrastinating thoughts written down
Concerning the color of your eyes.

In fear of looking at you in a positive light
Once more.

You see, when I dedicate verses
To the specifics of your smile.

I tend to get caught up
In feelings of attachment.

And I live with the fear
That you will leave just as easily as you came.

I suppose I will let myself cling
To every lingering thought of you.

Allow myself to ponder the rasp of your voice
In the early hours of the morning.

Allot myself time to reminisce
On the tenderness of your touch.

Slowly, I am becoming more attached;
Sticking to you like sweet honey.

Your words are half of a chainlink fence;
And mine connect with yours exclusively.
For NM

Wrote this in about three minutes. I've been afraid to allow myself the pleasure. It came out all too easily.
Allyson Walsh Jan 2016
Choking on words
Attempting to shove them down

Reliving the vision of you
Brings mixed emotions

We do not speak
For reasons continually multiplying

Yet I wish to tell you
Hurts unspoken

I dream of stopping you
In your tracks

Merely to tell you
Secrets left unsaid

"Your teammate's hands
Skipped consent

I cannot forget
The look in his eyes

His touch left my skin
Purple in places

He made me feel
Like I was the cause."

But dreams are
Only hazy

They're wishes meant
For the mind only

We do not speak
And I will not tell you

You will never know
Of bruises on thighs
For WY

Somehow I think telling you will make me feel better. I know it won't. He was reported and he doesn't talk to me... but you were supposed to protect me. You were too busy cheating on me at the time to do so.
Allyson Walsh Jan 2016
Your choices are amusing
Going every which-way
Certain you're refusing
A life of "everyday"

Explain a tight budget
And future student loans
Continue to spend hundreds
On ink and Patrón

Ruin relation with me
And your "handle" on addiction
Reunite with nicotine,
Whiskey and restriction

Encounter a crisis at twenty
Isolate yourself
No, you're not hiding
Resuscitate your hell
For NM

Be careful, bud.
Don't do something you may regret...
Too late.
Allyson Walsh Nov 2015
I am stuck;
Even in a world of "body positivity".
Continue to be lost
In my nit-picky ways.

Overcritical of
The "beautiful" rolls of my belly.
Picking at
The "lovely" flesh of my thighs.

Recovery should
Be a walk in the park.
The walk where I
Stop and smell the roses.

But it's a tiptoe
Through my every fear.

A crinkled face...
At every turn.
A piercing voice...
Invading my thoughts.

I might have
Put on the weight.
But I don't believe
Much has changed.
For myself

Some days are easy. Most days aren't.

I'm trying.

Or maybe I'm not.
Allyson Walsh Dec 2015
I am told that I
Cannot make homes
Out of
People

That skeletons are
Too fragile
To withstand
Every storm

Yet, I called you in
Late December
And deemed you my
Potential home

I like to believe
These words are what pulled
You back into
My atmosphere

Although it is said
That homes cannot
Be made out of
Beating hearts and irises

I am striving to
Turn your flesh
Into my
Dwelling place

Your eyelashes are
The blades of grass
On the lawn
Out front

Your ribs are
The staircase leading
To rooms waiting
To be filled

I'm turning your
Flesh into
Our living room
Carpet

Your bones are
The walls which
Keep the two of us
Safe

They said it couldn't
That it really
Shouldn't
Be done

But I'm making
Myself at home
In
You
For NM
Allyson Walsh May 2015
Come on, calm me down
Because you’re the only one who knows how
Keep things quiet; keep things honest; keep things true
Keep me believing in love, and in me, and in you

It’s a pity that bad habits are the hardest ones to break
Our love is a dangerous game
One that I’m certainly losing
But cannot walk away
For WY
(Things are tough right now, I know.)
Allyson Walsh Nov 2015
You're like an orange in the summer;
Brightest amongst the other fruits.
Ripe and ready;
Heavy with juice.
For SH

Wrote this with you in mind. You know I like my similes.
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