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Dec 2015
Look at me,
smoldering bones.
You are cooking inside yourself.
You refuse to let out your heat,
so you will burn up.
You will burn.
Open up,
smoldering bones.
you’re withering
wild.
why?


Come with me,
smoldering bones.
We’ll live in places
where your anxieties
die
it’ll be home for you and me.
give me the map for the
maze of your mind,
lonely soul.
I don’t care about the exit
as much as I care to wander
through your weeds
I have them too.


They’re dandelions.
children whose parents didn’t make them learn not to cry
call them wishes.

Let your wishes grow,
wayfaring one.
Your vagabond mind keeps you safe from all those
whose heads have never touched heaven’s eyebrows.


Allow me to love,
smoldering bones.
your eyes screened with your past
don’t block the color.
I understand your heart is out-of-order
at the moment,
but I’m not asking for anything.
Just that you’ll realize you’re worth
loving.
Let me love you, my dark dreamer.
And one day,
you’ll see those weeds as flowers,
as magic.
And then I know,
those smoldering bones
have stopped their smoking
for good.
The Willow
Written by
The Willow
696
     Amanda S, The Willow and ---
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