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will Feb 2020
present
to forever
a trek beside
a road and you
down the long road
the trail that never ends
me on foot you on horseback
our journey that curves to the future
the path of destiny stretches before us now
small distant horizon of the coming years is ahead
but the dirt beneath our feet is today as it will always be
can you see how the path cuts off in the distance will we as well
look how much is behind us now we cannot even see it can you remember
I tried to make it like a path stretching out to the distance. It's small far away but big when close. kind of like life, it's big in the moment while the future and past are just thoughts and memories that are not even there. sorry for the lack of punctuation, it ruined the text formatting of the path so I ended up removing it. I'm very sorry.
will Feb 2020
the clock is ticking
so ominous and looming
minutes pass so slow

in the waiting room
picking at lips in terror
my heart pattering

scared to make a sound
quite as death and just as still
then the door opens
nothing is more nerve racking then waiting.

(It's five seven five like a haiku)
will Feb 2020
my heart stuttering
sitting across from you now
my hands are shaking
I have my first meeting with my new therapist on Tuesday. I've been to so many therapists at this point in my life, but no matter what I still feel awful.
will Feb 2020
the brandywine has struck
from the tops of your cheeks
right down to you feet

you heard it from the birds
and heard it from the bees
now you're hearing it from me

the brandywine has struck
you're woozy and acting floozie
but you're never going to stop

not till you drip drip drop
straight from the bottle into your maw
it burns like your cheeks in the candle light
This is actually lyrics to a song I'm writing right now. They don't really translate well into poetry and I removed a lot of lines, but I thought it would be nice to get them out there. I got really frustrated with my ukulele chords while writing, so I took a break to post this here.
will Jan 2020
Can you see it?
rivets of rain
rush to rivers

Can you hear it?
dripling to drops
dream like dollops

Can you feel it?
softly and sacredly
saccharine on skin

Can you taste it?
flirty and flowing
fresh like flowers

Can you smell it?
mystic like memories
mossy and moorish
will Jan 2020
hand against the glass
is it protecting me
from spilling all out
or am I a prisoner
drowning inside the bowl
will Jan 2020
whether I try to identify as
a girl or a boy in any way
the only thing consistent
for me to identify with
seems to be lonely
I cut my hair all off it was really fun! Also though people be thinking I'm trans, not a bad thing, but I'm not. Gender is wack and I don't care about it really.
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