WillowValley

A different skin I'm breathing within but I'd rather be her- Attached at the hip, so to speak, lying beneath that tree and gazing into that face, above me Close enough to kiss but oh, I never did, did I? And no I can't think of anything sunnier not even the starchy bright clouds of Florida than that time, that place, that then that us That us, not us now, no Not the unsunny us decaying into autumn too many stupid miles apart after you got too tired of my stupid heart -Yes, her, the me that wasn't just me alone No I want to be the me at home.

I do not wish to know your thoughts. I claim sanctuary from your head. I do not want your perspective on life, nor your pictures nor your pain. I wish not for your vanity, I couldn't care less what your hair is doing, honestly. I wish not to know what you did today, nor of new friends or old enemies. But most of all, and this is crucial, I do not want to listen to your heart. My desire to kin with its wants was gone the moment it slipped and slithered from my embrace.

I'd use the word broken but broken's too beautiful like rust-colored cogs ticking out moments off-beat like something that's easy, something that's fixy, a hobby, perhaps, for the patient serene. Broken implies something there and then not. It implies a clean fissure, not gradual rot. I'd use the word ruined but ruined's too hopeless, like a stain too malicious for the headiest bleach, like something that's precious, something important, too tragically obscene for a person to keep. I'd use the word nothing but nothing's not enough. I know that I'm something, I just don't know what.

Ghosts clogged the back of my throat a guttural wrench in the cogs something detached and malicious; my eyes glazed over. The downpour of your words overflowed me, as shallow as a bird bath. My emotions were on my face, but I could not find words to explain, no combination of consonants and vowels to sugarcoat the truth- my jealousy. How dare you be so wonderful! when I cannot be.

-That what you least expect and what you most want can be the same thing, and believe it or not, they can come true. -That that doesn't mean you're going to be happy. -That romance is a privilege, not a right. -Love yourself, love yourself, love yourself. -That checking out maybe isn't so scary. -That dreams are just that. -Not to hope too much, but -to not lose hope entirely. -Not to expect. -That those few fleeting memories are probably worth the pain. -That guilt is a shackle, nothing more. -That everything is going to be okay, I promise.

When the tide breaks against the shore when the lightening fills the sky when your heart aches, I always know and you're the reason why When the thunder tumbles from my mouth you bring the rain. When the storm is coming when the sea is brewing when my heart is crying you're the one who's brooding When I fill my lungs you're the wind that's blowing kicking up the sand in abrasive flurries scraping up my words. When my clouds are filled with grey and I stroll onto your beach you're the one who gets to rain when I'm drowning just to speak.

There's right and there's wrong and they just keep on switching but I know I've breathed poison for much too long so I could be wrong and it's sick it's allergic, acidic wearing away I never noticed the tooth decay until my gums started to bleed at the slightest of pressure and oh, what a mess this is.

I could braid my hair into a rope of forever by stealing strands of yours but I think we both know that it would never stay in place and I can slice my heart in half to give a piece to you but that would only leave me bleeding. Because I love the way you laugh but there are just as many tears and there is no smile in the world that could fool them away, but I'm still trying to grin anyway. And if you're a cake for baking then I mistook your salt for sugar (or maybe I was just fooling myself all along). The thing is I can't bake without a recipe and I can't make you happy without you telling me how. And I could bury my hopes inside o

It was the way she closed her eyes as she took in the first lungful of nicotine. A slow drop of her lids, like the vertical close of the living room blinds. It was the liquid throb of her heartbeat, subdividing our melody. It was shade in the winter; cooling the freezing, doing no good. We were a space heater in the summer. Yet it was the way she wet her red, chapped lips before our collision, like two celestial bodies brightly, beautifully dying. the way I could feel our electric currents her hair tracing designs on my closed eyes, defending themselves her smile. And then her hair in the reaching rays of the sun nearing the horizon

brittle bones make it impossible to resuscitate her, for the pressure of the CPR would make her chest cave in. her smile is weak, but once it shined, shined like the bright and boiling oklahoma sun. (it came down and graced her skin with freckles, a little girl with bones so hollow that she believed she could fly.) as a child, she used to trade in eggs for chocolate bars; not hershey's, but still, the sweetness was the same. (a sweetness her dehydrated mouth can no longer process for the bitterness of years against her tongue) she went to school and her hair was so red, her sweaters so green and bright, that the other childr

"Here I am", Beaten, bruised, forgotten, I clinch the gravel between my toes, Attempting to ease the pain, The bright red blood drips slowly down my bare back, Scars across ever inch of my body, I'm brought to my knees, Whether this is from the agonizing pain, Or you're stunning beauty I'm not sure, The cold blood has left a trail of deep red and protruding goose bumps, I'm shaking uncontrollably now, It's your job to decide my fate, Do you make me wait here? Leave me? Do you make me take your hand? Or are you just going to put me out of my misery? It's in you're hands, With each passing moment the pain multiplies, Growing i

it's tomorrow; and tomorrow has become today and today is wasting the more oxygen swishes through my veins. there is something deep in my guts, something i can feel that i, i, am too afraid to acknowledge for fear of nothing more than fear itself. the problem is i miss you. everywhere i look i see you, your face, your walk, your touch along my spine as the world goes dark and silent and cold. everything malevolent without your guardian arms. i have become terror; horror stories splayed out along my arms, immortalized in my memories in black and white. this is what it feels like alone, this is what

 Once she learned the fallacies with wishes She learned to stop dreaming. She lost the spark And saw her life's work unredeeming. Shot in the dark, The stars show ungleaming, Eyes cast down, giving them no further glance, She is the face of  wasted brilliance.