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Ashita Mar 2015
He kissed her
her lips were air
and he was breathless
she feels home
not with four walls
but two eyes
and a heartbeat
they were two flowers
drifting into a
fading horizon
entwined delicately
free from hurt and pain
Just free from the demons
Ashita Feb 2015
Your lips tasted like liquor
and I was in a drunken abyss.
I took sips that turned into swigs,
and soon enough,
I was intoxicated.
The only difference,
between me and the other drunks;
I knew what I wanted.
You, with you lips of alcohol
and your scent of *******.
And I was addicted
to your body
as your arms encircle me
in a little cage,
on Cloud 9.
Ashita Sep 2014
You don't need
a knight in shining armor.
You need one
who is battered and bruised
but alive and real.
You need a knight
in stained armor.
A shining armor
would mean,
no battles won,
no battles lost,
just a piece of
to dress up.
A stained armor
would mean,
battles fought
with bravery,
battles lost
with acceptance,
and most of all
making it through
all of these battles
to be with you.
Ashita Sep 2014
No sound escapes me,
but the voices in my head
scream for attention
as my vivid imagination
pictures hurting them,
portrays chopped of pieces of them,
I feel the scream roam
on my lips
and I let my mouth open
and I let all the voices out,
and the quietness disappears,
and with a burst of my lungs
I continue the shrill vocal
on and on and on.
Ashita Aug 2014
Oh, how I am attracted to oblivion.
My hands reach out
to embrace oblivion,
to embrace feeling numb,
to embrace freedom.

My eyes close
to follow no direction,
to swim in dark depths,
to be in the unknown of known.

I am not depressed
but a mere curiosity
of what's on the other side,
of what's after oblivion,
and finally
of what is oblivion?
  Jun 2014 Ashita
Sierra Brown
Looking up at the stars
reminds me of a time.
A time where we'd lay in the wet grass;
not caring about what or when or who or how.
it's nice to forget about everything in our world
except what's beyond what our eyes can view;
We lie there without anything to distract us
from the beautiful lights that twinkle in the sky.
Those little lights are now symbolic,
not only because they're beautiful;
but because that's the last happy memory I have with you.
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