Willowed

It's peaceful here the way the highest leaves of the trees hit the sky

Blending into the blues of midnight burdens

Merging into the fluffy balls of cotton

The branches of myself become more prominent

With the hope to be as tall as this willowed tree

But with what stands beneath my feet

My roots are not what they seem to be

They're broken, bruised

A layered monstrosity of pain that has been built up for years

They hold a discoloration of dark secrets I've never shared that still bring me to tears

It's a disease

Is this what I get for always offering the oxygen to replenish those beside me

Without thinking twice of how empty it will leave me

Because I use to be healthy...

I use to be able to feel the breeze run through my thick layer of green

Be as strong as that willowed tree, never having to worry about being cut down

Instead, I was set fire with my eyes closed, burnt from the people I've loved the most

These roots have been tarnished

But, these roots are what I have to live with

So, yes it's peaceful here

The blend of suffering and misery

Is merged into a seed and planted into the soil where it will be nurtured by mother natures touch

And growth will become so much to create my own willowed tree

The branches of myself will become more prominent

Because I will be taller and stronger than the others out in the field.

@poetrybyalexisr