The weeping Willow (part one)
When left wondering who I'd be if I wasn't myself I believe I am a weeping Willow.
As a tree I have grown into the person I am today through many seasons of change.
Today the sun shines onto my leaves, today I grow brightly and loudly.
As for me months down the road my leaves will fall to the ground and I will be hollow.
Moving with the season in this way creates a profound life I would not ever turn away from.
The weeping Willow (part two)
I have spent my life aching, so much so that I don't know one without it.
I don't recognize myself without a bit of sorrow, I don't think I ever will.
I am not destined to live a life of pain, but some of us will always have a bit of hurt in our hearts.
These bruises will not fade, but those spots of blue and purple don't exist without a smile that lights up my whole face.
I have grown to use my pain to understand and create understanding.
Nobody sees the person in the rain like those who have just survived the storm.
So I will live with this mourning soul of mine, happy to know it is mine.
You are what you love
I am a writer,
As my understanding and love for the world around me is words on a page.
I am his lover,
As when I am with him I know I am not alone.
I am a walk in the woods,
As I find myself in moments of reflection spent with the trees.
I am a notebook with pages always being filled,
As I am at heart a collection of ever changing thoughts and memories.
I am the tree at the graveyard,
As I grow from the dirt, surrounded by change.
I am a late night,
As I am both the time spent alone and the moments together.
If I am anything in this world I am the things I love.
The Forest
I would attempt to arrange and pick this apart but it wouldn't do much.
I know this forest, I know these woods better than anyone and yet I am lost.
I am lost in more ways than I will ever have words for.
How does it feel to see the same tree on your way out and yet you know you've never left?
It's not the cold nights that leave my hurting,
I think I've grown used to them,
What really leaves me aching is not knowing when those times with the moon will end.
I am a visitor
I often find myself feeling as if I am at heart a stranger to every world but my own.
I live my life with my head up in the clouds.
I spend most happy moments far from the surface.
I'd love to spend my time with my shoes on the ground.
But it never felt quite right and I don't think my skin has ever felt the grass as theirs did.
It's who I am and at that shining moon in a dark night.
It fills me with happiness to be able to enjoy my own company and create this life in the way I do.
Yet I often look at them in jealousy,
Wondering what it would be like to know you are seen and connected.
It's strange, I miss something I never have felt, and wish for a life I've never known.
YOU ARE READING
Letters from sixteen
PoetryA poetry book I wrote during periods of my life with many different facets. I wrote about happy moments, addiction, and trauma, the book becomes more depressing as it goes on. I choose the title "letters from sixteen" to capture how I wanted to capt...
