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What does it mean
To grow older
Are we gaining
Our best years
Or losing them?
The way it looks like the clouds are Reaching down to Earth
I love the way the rain makes my dress Cling to my chest
When it lands on the curve of my lip

I run into the howling wind
Howling against the wind and rain
Lungs louder than a wolf

Wind tugging on my long blonde hair
Rain mixing with my laughter
I throw my head back to smile at sky
Liquid cloud trailing down my neck
Watering the blooming trees in my skin

I feel so alive and fresh
I'm really bipolar with my emotions and writing sometimes SORRY
Beautiful and elegant is this beast
Often found within the forests off to the east
His eyes so dark like pools of rain
I wonder if he will show himself again
Power behind his paws, determination within his eyes
His fur so long and wild, the ultimate prize
I love him so much, I really do quite like him
But I fear the closer we get, his future becomes more dim
For I envy his gift, I want his spirit so bad!
It's all I crave, even if it was the only I could have.
I'd trade him my life it it were an option
But life doesn't work like an auction
So I'd have to steal it to have it, despite my love
Once I take it, he'll return to the heavens above.
My greed is speaking loud and clear.
So loud that he must be able to hear.
Yet there he sits with his glowing eyes
As though he does not care in whose hands his body lies.
So with a rifle I take aim.
And take his life, his body mine to claim.
I'm sorry dear wolf, I feel much shame.
For I do not wish to soil your name.
In honor for your courage and giving me your life.
I will not bring towards your body a jagged knife.
Pride is not the feeling I receive
Anger in guilt is what it is, I believe.
Dear wolf, I say this to you as a friend
I will never **** another ever again......
 Sep 2014 Tajia Williams
Jessie
Wolf
 Sep 2014 Tajia Williams
Jessie
Let me trade in my smile for fangs
And my feminine fingers for paws.

Let me trade in my manicured nails for claws
And my curly locks for silver fur.

Let me trade my heart shaped mouth for a long snout
And the freckles on my nose for whiskers.

Let me trade my curves for a round, bushy tail
And my clumsiness for strength and agility.

Let me trade my tears for whimpers and barks
And my voice for howls in the night.

Let me trade my dinner reservations for hunting down a moose
And my poor senses for keen ears and a nose.

Let me trade my soul for a different one
And become a friend to the moon.

Let me live my life as a wolf
And all that it encompasses.

Let me symbolize the dawn and the dusk
And let me symbolize the converging of light and darkness.

Because that is wolf,
And that is what I see, when I look in the mirror.
 Sep 2014 Tajia Williams
SM
Wolf
 Sep 2014 Tajia Williams
SM
A young she wolf is born
Scorched fur of molten lava and heated coal
Flames consume her path
She leaves a soot trail
Ember eyes shine the spark of life
The animal instinct to hunt
And so she will hunt
Through the hell that surrounds her
The hell she creates
A paradise of flames
“The Fire in this Wolf lives”
You're disgusting
A bottom feeder of the worst kind
A successful one
Who steals from those you're supposed to be close to
And kills them for so much
as following their dreams


I hate you will all my heart
And I doubt that will ever change
 Sep 2014 Tajia Williams
Bella
Maybe if I bleed enough the taste of you will disappear,
maybe, if I hurt enough i will forget the way you smelt
the taste of your lips,
all the times you said " I love you"
all the times you didn't mean it
im left here, picking up the pieces, of the heart that beat for you
im alone here, hearing nothing but your voice
feeling nothing,
but the absence of you
and the sting of my wrists.
She holds her composure better than me,

And yet she's falling apart.



I can see a bit of purple around her eye,

where her foundation didn't cover.

She's always in long sleeves,

to cover the bumps and the scars.



She's in so much pain, yet she smiles.

She's got a round bump under her shirt,

But it isn't from a boyfriend or an act of passion.



She used to be called anorexic,

when the reality was, she didn't have food to

feed herself, nor the child she is being forced to carry.



She is missing chunks of her long blonde hair.

She only has three outfits.

Her only pair of shoes are plagued with tears and holes.



Her blue jeans are covered in crimson stains,

beyond her façade she's screaming.



And yet, despite all of these things she's enduring;



She just puts on a big smile,

And pretends everything is okay.
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