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 Nov 2013 Ashley Varela
Sia Jane
Who do you pray to?
on my knees
palms forced together
leaning against the wall
my head touching
raw cold paint.
I speak out loud
whispering voices inside
my head & my heart
continuing to speak
courage is summoned
chattering out words
sentences slowly forming.
I am asking questions impossible
praying to a god
that I don't even know I
believe in
yet so many nights
down on my knees
finding myself mid prayer.
I realise my hypocrisy
as I only ever grace a god
when struggles tear me apart
knock me down
or jubilations, thanking above
secrets from this soul.
I spend over thirty minutes
on these knees, bruised, worn
from day after day of prayer
gravel floors & concrete walls
creatures crawling everywhere.
I beg for forgiveness for those
sins I assumed committed
tears in my eyes
welling & glassy
forgive me lord I have sinned.
I promise to do better, be better
wiping the tears my fingers
covered in black
mascara smears across
the sinner or the saints face.
I'm still on my knees
resembling those at
the wailing wall
my nose & right cheek
pressed to the side
not only praying but
wishing, hoping, a sight
close to begging.
I wonder where I lost
my pride
if anyone were to see me
my life would surely end
a single drop is all I need
for the simplistic to keep
me safe from my own heart
its sorrows, loves & all who
penetrate my attempted
rhino thick skin.
I even talk to god about
love
there is no company in
this girls story
she talks aloud of love
of passion, words I would
never dare share with another.
I am caught between four walls
this room has heard
so much in the decades gone
confessions
blood smeared walls
the names of past lovers
spelled out
my heartbreak, take away
that tourniquet that allows
the cleansing of my soul
cathartic bleeding, wash away
the monsters below the skin
ivory skin, silver scars marked
a sketched out story
on me, and on the walls
of this cage.

© Sia Jane
 Oct 2013 Ashley Varela
Lizzy
We got close.
I liked you.

I told you my story.
I liked you more.

You told me your story.
I loved you.

You got a girlfriend.
You loved her.

I became more depressed.
I smiled for you.

You made me promise.
I promised.

You're just another person I will promise to get better for.
But that really just means that I'll hide it better next time.
I think you know it, you just don't want to say it.
 Oct 2013 Ashley Varela
Showman
First there is the prep.
The roommate.
Wearing salmon colored pants.  
He has Shaggy from ****** Doo
On his left thigh.
The alcoholic.
She has a drinking problem.
She is in denial of her drinking problem.
She hangs out with the loners.
The loners.
Unkempt, unattractive and fat in all the wrong places.
The blond looks like Tom Petty.
The one with dark hair, glasses and braces
They live next door.
Living together but segregated. 
Wild cards.
All of us.

©Gambit '13
He’s a ****
He’s a flirt
He’s ******
His hand’s up my skirt

He's fun
He's a laugh
He's what I need
Like the missing half

He's a secret
He's worry
He's hurtful
But always sorry

He's ****
He's charming
He's spontaneous
It’s never alarming

He’s serious
He’s complicated
He’s addictive
I should have waited

He’s passion
He’s affection
He’s always begging
The *** is excellent

He’s loneliness
He’s heartache
He’s hers
Not mine to take

He’s love
He’s a soulmate
He’s so far away
It’s worth the wait
 Oct 2013 Ashley Varela
J R
Show me
That you crave
That you need
More than just the air you breathe
That you feel
That you see
The world in all its brilliant color
That you want
That you dream
'Cuz life is crazy pointless things
That you hurt
That you bleed
Show me that you still believe
 Oct 2013 Ashley Varela
cresun
when my eyes rain
i shut the sun down
putting blanket over windows
and trap myself
in the lights of darkness
where Demon
finally comes out from my mind

but this time
when my eyes rained
there was no sun to avoid
Demon was quietly snoring

so why it rained
when there was
no reason to?

and now i have come
to a conclusion that
the strings linked to my heart
allowing me to feel
broke

i do not know
which is worse now;
to live with a heart of
tangled strings
or to live with none at all
Thinking of you
Don’t want to
Look out the window
Concrete and cars

Try to listen
Math is boring
Check my phone
Nothing from you

Drink some water
Play with my hair
Draw some flowers
Think of you

Apply lipgloss
Shift in my seat
Once again
Think of you

Adjust my chair
Look at the clock
Wasted half an hour
Thinking of you

Write a poem
On my math test
Just because I’m
Thinking of you
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