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Willow Branche
Poems
Mar 2014
The Monster (2013)
It calls to me in the wind,
Like a soft, warm whisper,
Beaconing me home.
It wraps its cold hands around my throat,
And I am at it's mercy.
I am free in its chains.
I am powerfully weak.
Like a threaded puppeteer,
I am no longer in control.
#cutting
#weak
#bulimia
#selfharm
#bulimic
Written by
Willow Branche
29/Gender Fluid/Florida
(29/Gender Fluid/Florida)
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Evelyn Morgan
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