We are now a few days into 2018.
Promises you made to me last year have fallen through the sunken cracks within your broken soul.
You promised to be my friend through the roughest times in my life,
but where were you when I needed you?
Nowhere to be found.
I can't say I am surprised.
I knew deep down you wouldn't be able to keep your word.
I don't want to be your friend anyway, because you'd be a horrible one.
The wonderful thing about moving on is, I have had multiple things happen in my life thus far, and your face didn't even cross my mind.
I don't care about you anymore.
I don't wonder how you're doing.
I don't give a **** how your Christmas was.
I've forgotten your likes and dislikes, what makes you tick.
You're not even attractive to me anymore.
I've let you crumble to ash.
I hope I cross your mind often.
I hope when you meet your next girl, and she's just being a total ***** to you and doesn't want to blow you-you think of me.
Think about how ******* great I was.
Think about how I made you laugh
How patient I was,
How caring I was-
Then think about how you let me go and how much ******* happier I am since you said goodbye.
You're a *******.
It is finally over. Goodbye to you, 2017.
I blocked his number today.
****- that was hard for me.
He never harmed me in anyway.
I just can’t do this anymore.
The back and forth.
The random and in between text messages.
We are both divorced. Both hurt. Both struggling. But you’re still stuck in the past.
You tell me you’re here and I run down the stairwell so excited. I have to stand on my tippy toes to hug you.
We get in the elevator. I touch your chest and tell you that your shirt looks nice. You put your arms around me and hold me. It’s been a long time.
We sit on the couch. Here I am. Naked. I’m vulnerable. No makeup. Acne. No bra. Pajamas. You pull me on your lap and kiss me.
You changed your earrings?
I’m shocked you remember small details.
You’re special to me.
He pulls me in close into his neck and I begin to cry. That’s all I do now. He can’t sleep at night either and he knows I’m broken. He doesn't try anything because he knows I’m ****** up.
You know I’m not ready.
You massage my head and watch Netflix. I look at your eyes and you're zoned out. Maybe you live in an alternate universe in your head as well. Maybe that’s why I can’t let you go. You’re broken like me and it’s so ******* beautiful. You’re so ******* beautiful.
I blocked your number.
I need to heal and I’m sorry it can’t be with you.
My heart beats so fast, I feel as though my throat might collapse. My palms sweat so much, I'm losing control. What is this I'm feeling? Is it forever or a moment suspended in time? Who is playing the game better, me or you? Is it real? Will it be real when the night moon shines on my face or will you be a thief in the night, taking what you already know is yours? Am I playing the same game too, is the real question? A high school dream come true. Is my gut wrong? I will give it all away to have you become a permanent fixture on my wall. I wish to smell you in an embrace. The taste of your lips against mine, where in an instant, the world and time stops. I'll look at you with the vulnerability of a child asking you for guidance and to take control; I'll let you have it. It's the downfall of my well being. I am secure. I am confident. I can take care of myself. But what if I want you to do it all? My walls are so far up, you can't see where they end and you aren't scared because you are the same. How can two different pieces combine into one from far away distances? We shall see...
The day I announce my divorce to my coworkers
I'm afraid to say those three words,
it's not what you expect.
I don't want them to lose their meaning,
so I try and change the subject.
I think about you all the time,
you're always on my mind.
I think I'm falling for you boy,
you've got my heart in a bind.
The way you shift your car in gears,
how you smoke your cigarette...
The way you say my name,
puts me in a sweat.
I. Miss. You.
I don't want to overuse "I miss you"
I feel like I barely slept last night. I had the weirdest dreams though. The last part I remember before waking up was him writing on my Facebook post but I was like wait. We aren't Facebook friends. I'm not sure what that means. If it even means anything. Ughhhh I feel like a sick slush ball of emotions today. I don't know how to feel. My horoscope asked me where I see myself this time next year? Hmmmmm. That's a tough question honestly.
I'm sad and lonely. I miss home. I'm a miserable mess.
I'm drunk as ****. He looked at my Instagram story as soon as I was thinking of him. I liked his ****** photo. **** I miss him so much. I want to text him that I miss him. Why?
I'll regret it. So I won't
It's almost been a month since I've seen him. Three weeks since we have texted. Why do I still miss this man?
****. I'm still In love.
Here I am again
I am on a path to destruction and no one can stop me
The moon frowns but he never judges my poor decisions
For he is my only friend in the warm summer nights
He watches me cry on my apartment balcony
All I want to do is jump and swim on the Milky Way until I land on him
The moon is the only one that can help me sleep
He tells me I will be ok
I wince with tears in my eyes.
I am beautiful.
I am bold.
My face will always show what my mouth can’t say.
I’m quiet and introverted.
I shy away from attention.
I am fierce.
I dance like nobody is watching.
I march to the beat of my own drum.
Boy, can I cry.
I feel everything and everyone around me.
I am a sponge of emotion.
I am smart.
I am quick minded and witty.
And my sense of humor can light up a room.
I am a great listener until I’m not.
I care an awful lot.
I’m always right.
I know everything better than everyone.
I am rich both in my heart and in my brain.
I love harder than anyone I’ve known.
I am a boss *** woman.
I can catch on quicker than my counterparts.
I sleep too long.
I love God.
I am worthy of happiness.
I have a mothering nature.
I am kind.
I am compassionate.
I am a shooting star.
Full of light. Full of rage. Full of passion.
Ashley in a nut shell but don’t blink too quick, or I’m gone.
I’ll never forget how you held my hand under the Amsterdam sky. The way you drove on the German Autobahn. I’ll never forget how you looked at me, while we inhaled the **** soaked air. I remember feeling an indescribable happiness hugging you and seeing the boats pass underneath us. I remember thinking we could live here. Start a new life. Learn the language. Things are so simple in Europe. Now, it’s just a distant memory that I will savor and store in the back of my head.
sometimes, it's ok to turn off all the lights in your hotel room. you draw the curtains open and allow the twinkling lights from the tall city buildings to sprinkle your skin. an overwhelming, yet familiar feeling creeps into your soul like a slow-moving fog. ah, this is called loneliness my dear. instead of being afraid, grab the hand that loneliness embraces you with and dance. allow the passerby's among the roads below to witness a beautiful being embracing the night and proving that sometimes, it's ok to be lonely.
You can be lonely.
Is it so crazy, that the brush of his lips against mine, sends electric shockwaves down every bone in my spine
My, oh my.
I want to be the one who drives you insane.
Late night, cigarette smoke, kiss me and don't let me go.
Drive me to where I can see the stars and infinite galaxies.
***** on my breath and you're the only one who can make me tick.
I want to get under you skin like you get under mine.
I want to slow dance in the dark to the static of an A.M. radio.
I want to be lovers and friends.
I want to know what you look like when the sun kisses your face in the early morning.
I want to know what you look like when you cry
I want to see your face and your lips when you whisper, "I love you".
I want you to remind me who is always in charge as you slightly graze my throat with your hand-
And I let a Cheshire smile slowly appear on my face.
I want a dangerous love.
Do you know what it feels like to hold happiness and love in your hands and then you let it go because you don't know what you have until it's gone?
A parade of happy loving people pass me by on the street.
They notice my tears but keep going on as if I’m just a passerby amongst them.
I’m screaming. Please. Anyone help me.
How I long to be apart of their smiling faces going on as if the world isn’t full of angst, grief, and morbidity.
Anxiety creeps into my brain synapses like an old friend and I can’t breathe. I grasp my neck and close my eyes.
This must be how I die, I think to myself.
Will my parents be ok? What about my friends? Who will take care of my cat?
As the anxiety sneaks away like a thief in the night, I relax.
Who can I call?
Who will listen?
My palms sweat and my mind turns to the deepest darkest thoughts.
My mind is not a good place to be alone.
It’s the equivalent of a child walking home in the woods in the middle of the night; it’s frightening, lonely, and makes you want to run.
But where to?
I’m looking for a hand. A voice. Someone to tell me: ITS GOING TO BE OK, ASH.
But no one hears me.
People from the parade begin to disperse into various shops, ordering their coffees, trying on new shoes, while I come to my senses in my front seat at the grocery store, unable to get out of my car.
-the daily life of depression and anxiety.
I don’t sleep anymore and it’s causing my mind to play tricks on me.
I want someone who isn’t afraid of my sharp edges.
Pull me in your arms and let me breathe in your scent.
I’ll love you like no one has ever loved you.
I will remember your tiniest details from the foods you despise to the TV shows you adore.
I’m hard to take in. I’m quite aware of this.
I let my emotions spill out of my mouth like an oil leak and it can be very hard for men to entertain that.
I just want honesty at all times and my brain can’t quite comprehend as to why loyalty is so difficult.
I’m driving them away.
Day by day.
Little pieces strewn around the floor
Begging to be collected.
I will arrange my cells for you.
Help me please.
Help me put myself back together.
I’ll never forget the day I told you I wanted a divorce.
I sat in the apartment parking lot and called my mom and dad.
It’s time- I said.
We knew it was coming- they said.
My knees wobbled to the apartment door.
I stuck the key in the lock and felt my soul leave my body.
There you were, in the kitchen, cooking dinner.
You hugged me.
Sit down- I said
Your eyes widened.
My heart crawled up my bony body and lodged itself into my throat.
My hands turned into sweaty ice.
I want a divorce- I said.
Ok. Wow. Why? You ask.
All of the air in the room evaporated.
It was in that moment, I would never be the same. We would never be the same.
I walk onto the dark balcony and feel the warm Florida air hug me like an old friend. I creep over to the edge and look down. Fear sets in. It’s late. But I text my best guy friend back home and ask him if he thinks I’ll die from four stories up if I decide to jump. Without missing a beat he writes back and says I may survive the fall. With that information in tow, I sit back in my Tommy Bahama beach chair and **** my self slowly, by lighting a Marlboro Light.
I look at her and poison slips from my tongue-
I smack my bubblegum in hopes that you can hear it across the room.
What does she have that I don’t?
A shield you pull out in unworthy discussions about...H E R.
You protect her as if she’s a wounded kitten found in a swampy sewer.
Disgust fills my empty veins as you inhale your menthol cloud.
All I can do is **** people with words, tongue ties, and depths of unknown worlds.
When all I wish you would tell her is:
I. Am. Done. Talking. To. You. About. Her.
Words that will never be said.
I love walking right next to you.
I love the way you stand.
I love the way you talk.
I love the way your hair blows in the wind.
I love your hands.
I love your arms.
I love your smile.
I love your laugh.
I love your eyes.
I love your tight jeans.
I love the way you smoke your cigarette.
I love your skin.
I love the way you left my life.
I love it when I lie.
It's late nights on my balcony,
when the sun sleeps
and I am exhaling my cigarette...
that I miss you most.
It brings me
to the night in the parking lot where I stood there and just stared at you.
-my brain knew before I did that it was the last time I was going to see you
There is something about a glance, a stare, from someone who just gets you in an instant.
The way they look past your eyes and deep into the darkest parts of your hidden soul.
That turns me on most, when someone can penetrate my mind and not just my body.
I think about him a lot, especially at night.
I want his arms around me, his hands on my waist.
He has the patience of a king and understands my nature.
He can tame me just by giving me one look.
He gets me.
I wanted to know what it felt like to hold your hand in the snow.
To watch you dance in the afterglow of a neon sign as the bartender yells, "last call".
I used to dream of sneaking away to unknown cities with you, wrapped up in hotel sheets, confessing dark tales of the past.
I dream of things that never happen.
All I long for
Is to snuggle in the crook of your neck
Smell your skin
Hear your heart beat, like it’s beating for me
I try to pretend that you won’t leave, when you will
You can’t love me because you’re broken
I’m very used to being a stepping stone for men
The sweet girl who will listen to all of their problems and then when they are healed,
Meet the new girl who they will inevitably fall in love with
But the saddest thing is I don’t know to stop myself
I care too much. I got that feature from my father.
I don’t want to become cold hearted and icy
I want to help people around me
Hopefully one day, I will meet a man who wants to grow along with me
Until then, I will remain alone and broken hearted.
Some days I am very thankful for my divorce. I say this because, I now know the type of human I want in my life. Someone who continually supports me. Someone who adores my wicked laugh. Someone who doesn’t mind that I have nightly dance parties in my underwear. Someone who doesn’t mind I cry at every fleeting moment. Someone who can handle my mental health and not mock me. Someone who is smart and funny and has a dark sense of humor. Someone who will look me in the eyes and make me feel safe.
Do you believe in true love? I no longer call it that. I now call it real love. Are you supposed to limit your love to your own city? Or do you believe someone who is your "real" love lives in a diverse state or even country? Why do we limit ourselves? Why are we afraid of distance? I used to be. Now, I don’t give a ****. If I fall head over heels, I will go anywhere. Does that make me naive or stupid? Possibly. All I know is, what is life without love?
I don’t need money or fame. I don’t need an expensive apartment. I’d be just as happy sleeping on a bare mattress on the floor if it meant I could be closer to you.
I will never apologize for wanting love. I will never stop searching for love. Because even after the ******* **** storm I’ve been though, I still believe in it.
The lines on my face tell a story of no sleep and cigarettes.
Too much alcohol and too little water.
Not enough food and not enough care.
The lines by my eyes tell a story of crying after you left.
Laughing when you were here.
Squinting at the words you said when you said goodbye.
I can't erase them.
There’s something beautifully romantic about tragic love.
I don’t understand why people say that two broken people can’t build a content home.
I search for people who have broken pieces like me,
And I found that in you.
Two lonely people can be alone together.
Two broken people can be broken together.
You make me feel like home in this desolate conservative town.
I love myself.
From my skinny legs
To my short hair.
I loved you.
For your vocabulary
To your laugh.
You loved me.
For my humor
And my personality.
Now you’re gone.
And I’m trying to love myself
All over again.
To hug someone. To fall into an abyss of not caring about what happens for a few days. To laugh. To get deep. To grow. To expand my horizons. To follow my desires. To skip logic. Ignore my brain. I want to fall in a deep love that I don't even know I'm in love until I think about it and then I'm like ****. There it is.
You looked at me and I was done.
I lost all common sense and immediately caught fire.
I tried to control the burning desire and Oxytocin that was released after our first kiss.
Let’s take our pants off and watch commercials in a rundown motel all day.
Let’s eat pizza and forget what day it is.
Just stay with me. Let’s fall together into an unknown abyss of misery, passion, and love.
You’re gone and my fire still burns for you, but with a smaller ember that is close to burning out.
This is me getting over you.
This is me getting over you.
You wrote me today and told me you had been thinking about me.
First of all, wow.
Where did THAT come from?
You say stuff like that and I remember how you smell.
I remember being in your arms in the hotel room and feeling you breathe.
It takes me back to when I hugged you and you walked away and as you were, I pulled you by your jacket and kissed you one more time.
I just couldn't get enough of your mouth.
You kissed me like I meant something to you-something more.
You kissed me like it was the end of the **** world.
Maybe it was the way you walked, or ran your hand through your hair, those green eyes.
Anyway, I tell you that I hope you're doing well, wish you the best, and all the rest...
It's over-doesn't mean I still don't allow you to cross my mind.
People who have kids always try to make it a point to let you know:
A. They have kids.
B. You don’t have kids.
C. Your opinion doesn’t matter because you don’t have kids.
My heart breaks into two and my mouth does that odd thing where I try to smile to hide my tears, but it quivers and I feel previously open parts of my soul shut down.
I am aware everyday of my 30 year old existence that I don’t have kids. I am aware that while I was in college making straight A’s, my friends were building connections with lovers, purchasing homes, having families.
Now I am left in an unfit despair of nothingness and quiet mornings. Empty nights full of Netflix and crying. Hugging my cat when the human touch is lost.
I suppose people don’t know the words they say can sting like daggers. Suppose, maybe they do.
It stings like an open cut
When you say…
“I’m not sure I will ever date again…”
Do you hear the pain in my voice
As I mask my laugh and shy away from the conversation?
I hold my breath in hopes you’ll notice that I am
I am crazy. I am insane.
I told you I quit smoking and when I do so,
You ask me if I am smoking again.
I tell you that my anxiety makes me breathe off the beaten path.
When, I want to tell you that I have this clutching fear that you’ll leave.
Sometimes it’s hard for me to find the words to say
I build up my wall and it tends to last all day
But when you caress me with your sweet soft hands
There is nowhere else on this planet I’d rather land
Because at the end of the day, you are my best friend
I promise to tell you my secrets until the end
he is my lover and best friend
Sometimes I wonder if anyone ever really understands me. I often feel as if I’m searching for a level of comfort that I will never really find. I want to feel like home and when I don’t, I crave familiarity.
It’s like driving down a road you’ve known forever and seeing the same people driving and walking by.
The smell of my mom when she hugs me with her favorite perfume on
My cat when he stretches his legs and leans against me because I provide the same home to him that I am searching for in others
I suppose I will never rest until my heart stops beating.
I can’t say sorry to your face, so I write it in a poem.
I swear when I was walking today, the wind blew and I smelled your scent graze against my skin.
I stopped right where I was and cried.
It's like the universe was sending me my daily reminder that we are done and I am not yet over you.
I'll never forget the way you smell.
In the shower and you press me up against the wall
I can't even remember a time when a man has dominated me
Oh yeah, it's because it's never happened before
You stare at me with your black eyes-pupils dilated
And in this moment, I know you are about to lose control
You wrap your hands around my neck and press hard
Amidst the steam, I feel myself about to lose consciousness
You read me so well, that you let go and let me come back to earth
I want you inside of me
Inside of my body
Inside of my soul
Inside of my mind
Ugh. I'm feeling super emotional and vulnerable today. I don't know why but I'm on the edge of tears. I want to cry so badly but I'm trying to hold my **** together right now. I can't pinpoint as to why I feel this way. I think I'm just sad. About money. About my broken relationship. About work. I'm not ready to date anyone. I need to take it slow. Going out with someone makes me want to throw up and not the good kind.
I want to make love. Be sensual. Kiss. Be held. Hugged. Touched. Smoke. Drink. Eat. I want to pass by strangers I'll never see again. Look into eyes that get me. Understand my darkness. Understand my soul. I want to close my eyes. And in that little moment, feel happiness. I'll try to hold onto it until it escapes. I'll grasp it so tight. I want to be wanted. Safe. Comfort. Home. Comfortable silence. Steal glances. Maybe a touch. And if we kiss, I'll hold on to it. I'll embrace it. I'll let every cell of my being and fiber soak it in like a sponge. And I'll kiss him back. Grab him. Pull him close. Because he has successfully penetrated my mind. He carries an immense sadness and so do I. We aren't forever and most likely won't be. If we make love, I'll look at him, like I've never looked at anyone before. I'll kiss his neck. Touch him everywhere. I'll make him believe this is the first time. Because I want to. I won't fake it. When I see him for the first time, I'll hug him so tight. I'm ready universe. I'm ready to get hurt again. I'm scared. I'm vulnerable. I feel sick. It's an all too familiar feeling that I felt months ago. But that's romance right? You keep trying in hopes the next time is different.
I wish I would have known that the last time I saw you, would truly be the last time.
I would have kissed you longer.
I would have inhaled your skin and pressed my body against yours more often.
I would have ran my fingers through your hair.
I would have studied your face more, listened to your laugh and voice deeper.
I hate myself everyday for not enjoying the moment more, because now you're gone and I am starting to forget what you sound like.
I'm starting to forget what you look like when you laugh.
I'm starting to forget what you smell like.
I'm starting to forget how your soft lips felt against mine.
I'm starting to forget how your hand felt in mine.
Even though I may forget all of the tiny pleasantries such as those, I will never forget the way you made me feel: whole again.
I’ve never understood **** pictures.
I read an article once that said women who post pictures with makeup on, means they are more likely to ****.
I don’t know about you, but that ******* disgusts me.
What do I do with a **** photo?
I cringe and stare and then delete it because it makes me feel uneasy.
In a world full of men with readily to send **** pictures, well, it scares me.
I want a gentleman.
**** my mind, then maybe down the road, ill ask for one of your saved ***** photos.
I'm forgetting little parts of you here and there.
I don't recall what your favorite color is and to me,
I am one step closer to forgetting you.
You don't believe in love.
Are you ok?
Well **** me. That’s a loaded question.
You put your cigarette in between your lips and in that moment, I wish I was that cigarette. Caressing your face like the smoke that blows in the wind and embraces your body.
You inhale and in that moment, I wish you were swallowing me whole. Let me into your soul, your heart, tell me your darkest fears.
Instead, you exhale, and I’m like the air that leaves your lungs, gone into the sky with no hopes of returning.
You let me go when you exhaled.
All the men,
they call me beautiful.
In their minds,
they think they are doing me a service.
I wish they knew,
that I wish to be called something more.
Penetrate my mind and my soul
and then I will let you penetrate my body.
I am simple.
-Don’t call me beautiful
We got married too young.
My breath shortens.
The doors to the church are about to open and all I can feel is my pulse quicken and this lingering moment of doubt I can’t seem to shake.
According to google, this fear is normal, but is it?
My father positions himself next to me.
He looks at me.
You know what look I’m talking about.
The look that says, “I’m your father and you are my daughter, if you want to escape, now is the time to say something...”
It’s like he knew something before I did.
But I cower.
The doors open and our eyes meet.
You don’t cry, but I do.
It’s like I’m walking to my death.
We get to the end and my father hugs me
I hesitate and don’t let go of my dad.
He whispers, “it’ll be ok”.
But it wasn’t.
And I have myself to blame.
...but the way he stares at me with his black eyes, shows me that he truly adores me. I know he would do anything for me and to me. I crave the heat from his body as I fall asleep to his tempered breath. The moon peers from the outside, embracing us in his cool-colored waves. I place my head on his chest as he wraps his brown arms around my skin-hearts beating opposite melodies among the darkness. He awakens and pulls himself on top of me. This is my favorite position and he knows it. He is the only man in this lifetime that knows the touches I crave. I won’t let him pull away, and it is love we will make.
late night drunken sessions
It takes all the power I have inside of me to not text you that I ******* miss you.
I’m smart, I went to college, but when it comes to you, I’m ******* dumb.
Why do I miss you? You weren’t there for me emotionally, when I really needed you.
Maybe it was the way you smoked **** at the edge of your bed.
Maybe it was the way you held me in complete silence.
Maybe it was the way you loved my short hair.
You were so hot and cold. So up and down. I never knew if I was coming or going. It was a beautiful disaster.
I’ll never be able to erase you from my cold little heart.