Willzzies page

The first thing you did that gave me butterflies was the way you squeezed my hand. Stingy particles flowing around in a haze. Hard and tight, like you spoke that way. Those things that one could have never said. The kind that's so sweet, and also a little crude. I fell for the way you held me close, tight, like a promise or maybe a willow. The thing I used to paint in my head when the blanket wasn't enough to make me okay. It's odd how this works. All your words could turn me around. If you promise to not make me dizzy, then I might believe your mind. I like to have you by my side. Although having someone dear is a hard thing to stand. Space can feel empty though I've filled it before. This beating yet quiet sorrow is only because I'm thinking of tomorrow.

Take me down and put me in a box. I've got a bruise on my own wrist from holding it too hard. You don't know how to talk to me, but that's okay. Sometimes nothing's easy. I wish I had some structure. I've got to hold it all together, so please, hold me together. I don't like it when people listen to me breathing. In fact, the world scares me. How can everything be so big when I remain so small? I keep wishing for things. It's like a beat from my heart. Maybe it will never quiet down. The words might actually make me cry. Maybe attention is all I want after all. A child's cry becomes your hearts beating. In one way or another. Maybe I never had a mother. And maybe I never had a father. Then I'll always be my own child. Too short to reach things and too naive to understand. If a child is all I'll ever be then put me in a box. In there I will whisper this poem under my breath because that's all I have the guts to do. Trying to be more burns anyway so make it burn.

Those who had to pull themselves together doesn't like it when it hurts. I used to hurt even if I wasn't allowed to. I couldn't help it when it felt like everything was spilling over. I want to hurt now that I can. Now when no one is telling me to stop. I want to feel it completely.

I think I need crutches to walk, because I keep breaking my foot. But I don't want you to know how it's going. I wish that I was red because it's stronger, like I wanna be. If you knew how it was going could I keep it?