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1.5k · Mar 2012
Self Portrait
Willoughby Lucas Mar 2012
[1] Introduction

Originality a creation of the self
Yet asking for fiction
Unable to conjure from a thin presence
But gifted from life gathered.

[2] When, Why, and How?

When the tears from this today
Mimic the rain of my tomorrow,
How do I know where
To escape?

When we are lost in our selves
And tempered by the faults of others,
How do we grow
To understand?

When logic is renounced
And feeling is felt,
How do we remind ourselves
To refrain?

Moments that unfold
Will educate the soul,
Inspiring our answers on How
To Live?

[3] Plot, Setting, Mood

Our overlapping ideas,
The overlapping events,
And unfortunately overlapping people,
Become my overlapping emotions.

I’m the paradox,
You’re my paradox,
And actually we’re the contradiction,
Inspiring my few uninspiring words
I am reading and writing to you  


The pain you are
The pain you caused
And the pain I feel
Produce these overlapping paradoxical poems.


[4] Betraying Body

Walk with fake footprints,
See with unfocused eyes,
Touch but cannot feel,
There is simply nothing to taste,
And smelling only the lost scent;
Living desensitized the body feels unlit with purpose.

We are lost
Directionally challenged
Falling, tripping….now bruised.
We live damaged,
Our tears cleansing our deepest cuts
Internally bleeding,
The blood forcing color to our eyes
Beginning to live with the hue obtained.

Hemorrhaging at the heart
Cardiac arrest
We’d welcome death, the ungiven gift
They choose life, the given curse
Disregarding our last rights
Providing us with a life we do not wish to live.

It rains, we flood
Wishing to drown
And yet being denied
Our legs tread the threatening tide
Progressing to our new state of barely alive.  

Time willingly unkind:
Intentionally slow,
Trudging through, perhaps looking to an end
Watching the rise and fall of numbers
Their cyclic hands pass
Strangling the minds of many
Those still living: live lonesome, accompanied by the inevitable tock of time.


[5] Semicolon

Bridging my gaps,
Sewing my wounds ,
And preparing for the relapse in pain.

Writing through my wordless speech
I begin to reinterpret my language
Advising myself to remember my illiteracy.

Repeating my self
Becoming redundant
Incapable of innovation...
I look again through the pages of my unspoken mind.



[6] The Repetition of my Pain

Headache, life threatening?
Heartburn, possible survival?
Common cold, originality?
Pregnancy, new life?
Who defines pain?
Are you sick?
Are we all?

I’m sick
I’m hungry
I’m cold
I’m tired
I am heart broken.
Am I sick?
Aren’t I always?

He’s fine
He’s happy
He’s lying
He’s pretending
He will never say.
Is he sick?
Was he ever not?

We were fine.
We were happy.
Were we lying?
Who was pretending?
We will never love again.
Were we sick?
When were we not?


[7] Falling Action

Redirecting my momentum and changing the gears,
I found HIS path
I’ve regained consciousness,
Been lifted out of the soapless  bathwater
And cleaned by the warmth of  a fire.

Although burnt and previously bruised
The bandaids were enough,
The aspirin filled a void,
And my head had stopped hurting.

Self sought,
Self seen,
Self claimed,
And now reconciled with self;
Clarity retrieved and new quest begun.
1.3k · Sep 2012
Synopsis of my Desires
Willoughby Lucas Sep 2012
On my first day he never spoke
My second day his lips brought forth letters
Then with the third we broached words
In a week there was a sentence
And after a month there were conversations.
Gradual steps to comfort, but strides in perception.

Wondering who he was I gathered some initiative
I tried to aim it gently but i probably hit a few nerves
Erratic as usual he might have regretted being hit
Carful as I could be but as clumsy as I am  
His glass spine shattered with my slightest presence
He's the vase but who could be his flowers
Im not delicate I won't be able to line his rims with petals
Im not poised I won't be able to color his reflection with a primary's elegance
Im not rigid I won't look strong or brilliant floating in the water that his depth holds
For all these reasons I shouldn't fill the bouquet his shape desires.

Wishing for the day when we would equal one
The pull of numbers to the decrease of a sum
Begging for a clock that provided us with the time to process love
The tug of a gear syncing to the motion of the machine
Praying for a reality where he would be a fixture in my future
The luminosity of a memory we share sparking with the light of mutual desire.
Willoughby Lucas Sep 2012
Maybe it was soon
Maybe it was impetuous
Maybe I will always be reckless
Maybe its the reason the pain will cut deeper later
Maybe its the reason the anger will hit me harder in my future
Maybe I will always be stupid enough to venture
But whatever the inevitable outcome I chose to love him.

Thinking in circles playing with the pictures
Editing the scenes and adding scores to the moments
I move the documentation of your whole into the priority of my pupil
I glance over your features, remembering how they felt
I visualize what our reflection once looked like
But now thrown apart how can I do more than crop them together again.

The safety of your essence lingers in my cells
The comfort we shared abides in the corners of my muscles
The solace I found within you resides in my ***** systems
But the notion that we will one day reunite is what sustains my soul.

I want to do more than see
I want to feel more than a 2d image can bear
I want to lay next to more than the voice I hear
But wanting more should I even dare.

Without the touch of some flesh
Its your words that still do caress
My eyes aren't as dry as they look
They fill each night with glass tears
I wouldn't risk letting one fall
Ill just sit here waiting each day for you to call
These days hurt and these hours burn
But each blink reminds me your one closer to being in my line of view.
752 · Mar 2012
Preparing for the Pain
Willoughby Lucas Mar 2012
Subconciously dreaming
Seeing him sigh
I awake to a start
From the stain of the morning  
Throwing memories in my eyes
The death of a life
The lack of love in me
Feeling his knife
Now I'll never be more than one of his amputees.

Learning to listen
We prepare our ears
Can you hear shouting?
As they all yell
I wake to their cries
Acknowledging my own
Remembering my sadness
Do I feel tears?

Tied to our hope
We live for the alternative
Pretending to move
We stand starved and stubborn
Unwelcoming the change
Defying composure
And laying it all on the line
With the true self's exposure.

Left tortured, tempted by love
We fall for the forbidden
Massaging the pain
Living for the lies
Ignoring old warnings
Refusing to recognize
What was the demonstration of our demise.
750 · Mar 2012
You and Me
Willoughby Lucas Mar 2012
Forget Forsaken, Lose Lost
Since this Connection, there's no Desertion
Reminisce in this:
Neglect the Past but Embrace this Present
I'll say it as long as you can hear,
This friendship should cast out every one of our fears.

I may bring stress
But I'm not always going to be your mess---
Understand I wear frowns not tears.
You may worry and  I may give you reason
But don't ever take it as treason
Im here and let it be clear
I Love you, Dear.

The Glass Shatters
A Reflection cast in each other,
Myself Projected in your eyes.
Acknowledging the Resemblance
Still Seeing the Difference
While Appreciating this Coincidence.

Love bread Consistency
Constancy created Honesty
Close from Compassion
Dedication by Devotion
This is Dependable
Since this is nothing short of Remarkable.

Affection Motivated my mind
Want wrote what needed to be Expressed
But neither could convey this Blessedness
My aim was to Memorialize  
Even then no one could begin to Conceptualize.

Who would I Be
Without You and Me
Never forget this "We"
Despite the distance between Seas
Even if it's more than just You and Me
This will always remain to Be.

Don't Doubt what you know
Don't Question what I've told
Don't Worry I will leave
Because I'll always be here for You and Me.
690 · Mar 2012
Our Aria
Willoughby Lucas Mar 2012
The Duration of our Association Writes a Song  
Meant to be Heard by the Artists above and below us,
The housewives before and after us,
And the Creator that has always wanted to get to know us.

Our Chorus has built a Bridge from foundation to second Verse
Your Vocal cords burst, mine always in strain
So I revert to a way I can seem less cursed  
Painting you here with me in this  forsaken Refrain.  

I'll write you here
I'll Envision your Tune and Draw your Hymn
I'll Create an existence for you with me
And "we" will never cease to be.

You'll be here and I'll be ruining my Voice for you
You'll be there but you'll need to Hear
You'll have to Listen but there's a continuation to their destruction
And we will never let "us" come to a Conclusion.  

The Orchestra thriving in the Tone of louder
Feeding from the veracious Harmony
We seem to constantly inspire,
The Voice of circumstance
Plucks the Strings of our Instruments,  
Amity Sculpting a heart worth honorable mention
  Pumping Lyrics through the circulation of this dedication.

I'll Write you here and You'll Sing me there
And together we will fathom the concept of "near."
594 · Mar 2012
Mindless
Willoughby Lucas Mar 2012
Driven by its consumption
Altered by its meaning
and Frightened by its prevalence.

I am in love with my mind
Should I think another way
Was I meant to think in such delusions
Or should I wait to speak from lunacy.

Impulsively driven but we all loose logic
Passion negating our reasonable mention
But now we weep, trapped by degenerative muscles
Forced to fight for a sense we once had
And the past we used to remember.
564 · Mar 2012
Letter
Willoughby Lucas Mar 2012
Tender moments brought by unsavory words,
Anger meets passion-
While rubbing together
Your body clenching-
My sweet mind
I feel your horrors as you felt mine
Convulsing movements-
Persistent touch-
We wont let go
We love too much.
I kissed you often-
Now left in dismay-
You are so very, very far away.
Made distant-
Your touch fades-
You're in my eye
And I in yours.
I miss you always
I’m feeling lonesome-
Read, Write, Speak-
Where lies a response?
Can you hear my voice?-
It feels so loud but dose not transcend-
Rejoined by a reply and my heart shall mend-
A letter this is,
So to you my words I lend.
Willoughby Lucas Apr 2012
I had that need to communicate, before I knew what I was going to say
I knew what You meant to me and I knew I was sad
But nothing seemed to say what I wanted you to hear
I knew I was missing you and I knew you missed her
But I thought just for a minute that you might've been my cure
I knew I'd been hurt: left thinking one thing but you brought me to believe in another
I thought I knew not to love but I guess I forgot
I thought I could assume you'd be more than a man I'd have to tolerate
I thought I knew never to assume, but I guess I expected I would've been more careful
So I might have had thoughts but I guess I wasn't thinking:
Im at the same place I was then
Im closer to who I was, now then who I've recently been
Im in the same pair of shoes I swore Id never have to wear again
But despite all cautiousness, you're now not only my past but the pain of my future
Maybe I shouldn't have anticipated your love
Perhaps that would have subsided some of the peer pressure
Possibly that could have brought us closer
All I know is that we could've been happy, but you chose her
And now Im stuck accepting your convoluted conjectures
Mostly because your so scared of the unfamiliar.

— The End —