I second this addiction. I feel lost and unfocused if I do not write.

I third this addiction.

I love the written word..mine and others.

Great write,right,rite,wright….lol

Very relatable Willow. Thank you for sharing 💕

Brilliantly penned, Willow. Into the book it belongs! Infectious vibe your words and the musical arrangement my friend. It’s the one addiction that I feed and I refuse to kick. You summed it up well as you always do. Loved this one Willow. Excellent work. Appreciate you.

Damian

You express perfectly what most of us here feel, dear Willow! It’s the same with me – I scream, weep, bleed and laugh my soul onto the paper.

It’s horrific, that ‘silent scream’, the self-reflection not seen in the mirror, the expression held inside. I hear your pen, Willow. It’s LOUD!!! But I welcome it. Let the ink flow, make Rorschach’s of rage across the page. Just know, you are seen!

Curt

Brilliant work.

I don’t run the pen. It runs me, girl. As Shrek said…Better out than in. Excise the wounds so they can heal clean. Thank you, girl. You wield a mighty pen yourself

Thank you, Thomas

I feel this. Know that you are not alone feeling this way. the statement of “I am tired” cut deep. At one point the feeling of it all and feeling that no one gave a damn was so much…let’s just say I would not be here if I did not have someone. We all do not have that “touch stone” person. I do understand.

Absolutely gobsmackingly brilliant,powerful,honest,scary and sad.
When I read this, the only question. I had was why?Why does one keep holding on when there is nothing left to hold on to?
Why,if God exists,would he torture his children?

Why are we even alive?

Take care my friend.The tide can turn quickly and bring you back to shore.🙏

🤗

Tired,, but alive, broken, but the pieces are all there, they fit together, like the way rain brings flowers. Our tears fill the oceans where all life began. And our scars (whether visible or unseen) become the instruments of our music and can be heard in the cosmos. Willow, your poem resonates like violin strings, hauntingly and with grace. Not sure if you see or feel it, but you give us all the strength to continue, to disturb the universe, like pebbles thrown in the pond, creating ripples that go on forever.

I do not know you, Willow, and have only read a few of your poems, but I am happy you are here.

Curt

Powerfully penned, Willow. The armor does get thinner with time I think it’s part of facing mortality. At least that’s part of it anyways. There are layers as I always say, but it’s tiring indeed. Time catches all of us eventually, but our scars lend to wisdom, even those earned by trial and error. That’s what popped in my head anyways. Excellent write my friend, I can relate. Appreciate you.

Damian

You nailed it. Fantastic work. It’s hell to get old.

This is the first piece of yours I have read, but HER suggested you for membership in our new Spoken Word group. I took her at her word, and though I have not heard any audios by you yet, I wanted to take a peek at just some of your words first. If you have audios, I certainly want to hear them, on the strength of the words you have left here, not what someone has told me. This is brilliant work, Willow, tough, strong, gut-wrenching, sad; it touches all the emotions and pulls the reader in. I will read more, and I want to hear what your work SOUNDS like.

Corruption and ignorance go hand in hand. Yes, I whole heartedly agree with you. We must see the truth and act on it. Powerful write.

As if you read my mind and what I was thinking as as articulate. 🙂
I almost got ht by one of those flagy pickups yesterday. 💚

hello beautiful Willow powerful write the darkness threatens to swallow me whole I feel you ❤️

Powerfully penned, Willow. Into the book it belongs! This is’t a write it’s a statement my friend. Excellent work. Appreciate you.

Damian

WHOA!!! Some truth telling going on here. It didn’t fall on deaf ears, cause I be listening. America has always been 2 countries within one country. Today’s fascists were yesterday’s slave owners and slave bounty hunters. Thank goodness there are still wide awake decent people who in their millions took to the streets a few days ago. And even better, there is, beginning Nov 5, the determined, nonviolent, movement to oust these MAGA maggots’ regime.

Yes, it is often true in history that people were warned but didn’t listen, sometimes people just need to have a fire lit under their arses, before they can see straight. I think we poets have a role to play in this eye opening!! Your poem Willow is a welcomed salvo (or perhaps to be consistent with the metaphor), a welcomed match for that fire.

Thanks for the much need poem Willow.
Curt

damn good write.

Raw and unflinching. You’ve caught the weight of complicity and the ache of resistance in a way that feels both urgent and true. An incredible read!

Okay, now I know. You not only know how to write beautiful, powerful words , you also know how to deliver them. I certainly want to speak to you, Willow. Please visit with me.

Who made you promise not to cuss? In the immortal words of my old coworker…”fuck that!” I hear what you’re saying. And not saying. Thank you, girl

whooee, thanks 🙂

Superb work.

Dude you don’t have to write dark pieces, you’re a lover. The world needs far more light flowing through love than our darkness Halloween pieces. Tight one dude

This is full of emotion and beautiful imagery.
As writers we get it. Totally get it. Our dreams are what encourage us to write. That extraordinary feeling of connection with something beyond our grasp. So we grab the pen and off we go with our words. Trying to convey what we feel in our own sense of style and tone. You never disappoint. Your writing is exceptional because you’re exceptional. You have mastered expression my love. This is a beauty.

With much love and respect
Adelphina

If I ever find that special someone, I hope I can write something like this. Nice one, Styx.

Beautifully penned, Mark. Love the title, this is an excellent write my friend. I can identify with that process, not always knowing where a write will lead sometimes not till the very end. I knew I wasn’t the only one. Appreciate you.

Damian

Truly beautiful work, my friend.

Totally absorbing, the more I scrolled down. I found it intriguing to learn of how real you wrote her – how immersing that discovery felt from a reader’s point of view. We don’t always know where our muse will lead us, do we? But oh, how lovely the discovery we find!

Yes, that perfect lover, the soulmate. In my life she was dreamt of but never found. Like you, I have written about her and dreamt about her. I’ve tried to paint her image, even though I didn’t know what she looked like. Your poem perfectly describes how we feel about that special someone.

A very brief incorporation… a warm poem… that’s all I needed.