Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Feb 2017 Shyanna Ashcraft
Raven
You
 Feb 2017 Shyanna Ashcraft
Raven
You
dancing in my head
we are masters at living beautifully
creating unity

Fill my lungs up with your love
Cheesy as it is, I love the way your smile pulls and replaces the stars
out of the sky and stabs me in my blue eyes
Yeah love is a ****** mess

You’re the wolf, I the Raven
We play, we chase, and we steal each other’s hearts—
Like shuffling cards, like go fishing for my heart
In a sea of too many geeks, too many freaks, fakes
Baking up cupcakes to lure you in
Fishing you in with the bait

Darling, I may sew my mouth up shut
But I see what should never be hidden
Hear more than I’d like
And I smell the magic tucked under your tongue

I imagine
You and I
Dangling our feet over the cliff of a roaring waterfall
Our thoughts carried off

You won’t always get me, I won’t always get you
But as humans do, we tie ourselves up in silly string
Pulling strings
Pulling our bodies closer

Loving you isn’t hard
But untying what we have is
You're right, I'm left—to be
twisted up like headphones knotting in a pocket
I’ll be wrapped in your arms until the greedy pull us apart
He played music that my soul danced to
 Feb 2017 Shyanna Ashcraft
Namir
We touch, we kiss
our bodies entwine.
we mouth off words
claiming each other as "Mine"

Skin to skin
toe to toe
body to body
under the sheets we go

kiss by kiss
Moaning in pleasure
we each have our fun
giving each other our "treasure"

In public, in private
Making love through the night
The passion, the lust
Even right after a fight

we make love, hard, fast, or slow
we make love, and promise, not to let go.
A little "love" poem for fun
 Feb 2017 Shyanna Ashcraft
Hollow
Your mouth
Like a spigot, turning
To drain me of discomfort

I scream
Brought to ecstasy
By your passionate love

Oh to lay
Nestled to sleep
By the calm of your touch

I dream
Of nothing more
Than embracing for eternity
With the touch of her flesh

The sweat on the small of her back

The sent of her body

The looks she gives me

The ways she sighs

Within her eyes

With passions of Love
or is it
Passions of ***
You are not broken
and I don’t need to fix you,
always remember.
 Feb 2017 Shyanna Ashcraft
Haruhi
She is a Writer.
She writes of things that help others.
She writes for freedom.
She writes for fun.
Her style is unique in it's own right.
Her pens all drained.
Her thoughts expressed.
Not by violence.
Nor by explosion of the voice.
Just by paper, through pen.
She writes for friends.
She writes from life.
She writes for anyone who stops by.
She is a Writer.
An idea not at all new, but still as rare as ever.
Dear Diary,

Today I saw a kid,   who I knew really well,
He’s a straight A student, and…    man you could tell.
He’s laughing,     and joking,      with three other guys.
But something’s not right,      there’s a look in his eye.
That look that you get when you don’t feel alright,
He said he was good,  but his eyes were full of fright.

There’s a girl in my class who does nothing but smile,
Who makes everyone else feel like they’re worthwhile,
She’s tall   and she’s kind,   and runs track as a sport,
And never,   ever,   seems to fall short.
But again, there’s a look,  I know I’ve seen it before,
From that boy that I’m friends with,  well...    not anymore.

Dear Diary,

He’s pulling away,    shutting everyone out,
But nobody knows what this is    all about.
His eyes are glazed over,   He’s stuck in his head,
There’s a lot that he thinks of,    that’s going unsaid.

She’s losing friends fast, and just dropped out of track,
Because of some “Family Reason”, and how there’s no coming back.
The friends she has left say her family is fine,
And that there is something else going on, behind the front lines.

Dear Diary,

Today I see a boy,    who’s sitting by himself,
One I used to know, not speaking to anyone else.
His grades are falling, his health is    too,
And if you try to talk to him,    he’ll just ignore you.

The girl that I mentioned, something’s really amiss,
It all started when I saw the,    scars    on her wrist.
Her sleeve started to rise, and she quick covered her arm,
No one else seemed to notice, but I saw the   self harm.
I wonder what made her do it, draw on her arms with the knife,
Like a pen drawing on paper, what could have caused her strife.

Dear Diary,

Last week,
She took her last breath, his was three days later.
In her letter, she said that we’d hate her,
That if we knew, we would call her a traitor.
That we’re not “real friends”, we were just trying to bait her,
Into caring for us, and making her think we were caring for her, to maybe help keep her afloat.
“But for the few of you...    who actually care,” she wrote;
“You couldn’t have saved me,    even if you wanted to.” I quote.

He didn’t leave a letter, or a text, or a call,
No one will ever know why he did it, or what caused the fall.
As he sat in his room,   alone,   as he felt the lone bullet,
No one know’s why the trigger...     why he pulled it.

Dear Diary,

When I saw those two suffer, it tore me apart.
It ripped a big hole,    right in my heart.
What happened,    it really did pull me to pieces,
How they handled their pain, the only way it releases
Was,
By scarring their skin, and cutting everyone off,
By starving, and blaming only themselves and they scoff,
When I ask,   if they’re ok,   and say that they..  are...     fine.

I was once told to speak the truth, even if my voice shakes,
So I stand here talking, as my lips quiver, and hands quake, saying that
Depression is a problem, that needs to start getting noticed,
As a real mental disease, not just some kid being unfocused.
It’s happened before, and it will happen again,
It could happen to someone,    you call your,    best friend.
Dear J,

       Did you know, there are billion of stars that made up a galaxy?
       The sun is the closest to the earth.
       YOU ARE THE CLOSEST TO ME.

P.S. Stay close, baby.


R
For My Dreamer
Next page