Nicole Watts
You wished it not be consumed,
Hoping to cast away the unimportance,
Tainting the view of admiration.
Cruel thoughts, insipid demeanor, and fragile ego
roam in their dark dresses, toying the idea
of willow trees and their inexplicable sublime.
Spewing that you will never be that tree
You will never be those trees
And their stupid sublime.
But is that all you see?
The remnants of what could be,
But never dared to do?
You have sealed my view with a toxic kiss,
Mirroring what I lack,
Disappointed in the life I’ve chosen.
You are not spiteful,
Only emotionally tethered to the idea
Of wanting to be better.
You are helplessly pressured,
A sour expression of gratitude,
A voice that never feels heard.