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The hills are back in droves.
There are lilacs in your eyes.
It is winter.
I am yours, you are mine.

I count to ten.
You breathe me in.
I feel void.
So I, begin the count again.
I once was a boy,
clad in clover.

Tangled in red,
stricken with slumber.

I once was a boy,
embellished in blue.

Laced in white,
carved with sovereign.

As opulence my reassurance,
I only wish.

I wish,
I was dead.
 Dec 2013 Ashley Williams
K
The books whisper,
Painting pictures in empty air.
Spinning a spell around the heart,
Sticky as a spider's web.

Preserved like fresh flowers,
Memories cling to the printed page.
Feelings, thoughts, sounds, smells,
Left between the covers.

A thousand unknown stories,
Strange and familiar,
Terrible and beautiful,
Filling the silence with words.

Comforters,
Companions in loneliness,
Keepers of secrets,
Speakers of truth,

Words are immortal.
This found poem was inspired by favourite novel of all time: Inkheart. I first read it when I was 8 years old. This book instilled a love of writing within me and an obsession with the beauty of words and the power of stories. If you have not read this book, you must! Even today it remains my absolute favourite book. One that has literally defined the course of my life and gave me this passion for the written word. It is a powerful art that I am working each and everyday to craft.
 Dec 2013 Ashley Williams
Zachary
We have all loved skeletons at one point- maybe as lovers, a person with benefits, or a friend. Skeletons that looked just like us; zombies walking the same path, no longer caring for their way. Pieces of a soul that were so shattered no amount of band aids and peroxide could heal it

Your expressions that entranced not just I, but many past lovers. Ones that are not intended for me, but if I try hard enough, I imagine they are so

Your hands were delicately carved work, and your bones, your bones, the finely formed structure of intricate words, whispered in the dead of night to the crook of your neck

You overtook my thoughts; shadowed me in my sleep, molding my dreams to nightmares. All I can think is “would they like this?” or “that?”. You are a dictator with an iron fist on my heart of weathered steel. You are the reason I write; why I wrote until the crack of dawn when no other soul was awake except for the lonely and the in love

My nightmares and reality merge into one, until I do not know which is which, but I do know that wherever you are, I am searching for you in the deepest corners of my mind to find lost memories, waiting to create new ones

And I know that, despite our differences, you are buried deep into my skin, a fragrance that I cannot wash away with tomato juice no matter how much I match the sticky substance

The one beautiful thing I have not gotten bored of; the one person I have not walked away from. When you have an obsessive personality, which quickly turns to boredom, it is hard to find that one person who keeps you from that

You are the one beautiful thing I never regretted latching on to

But the minute I saw you, I knew I would not do the same, no matter how much I would want to. The second I saw you, I knew I wanted to be the one who was the first to see your face each morning, and the last at night. I knew I wanted to be the one to kiss your wrinkles between your brows away, to wipe your salted tears off your cheeks and wash them from your pillows; I knew that if I were to meet your family, I would say “Thank you for him. Thank you for this great person who not only brings light to my world, but is a sun to many others.”

I knew that despite all that, you would never be mine. For you see, you are a star, a planet bigger then the solar system that contains your tiny toy of a body, and I was simply orbiting you, pulling farther away with each passing day

You wield a weapon, dangling from your fingertips that no one sees, but you can feel inwardly, pushing deeper and deeper until it is so embedded I no longer feel it. You morph me between your nails like the water cuts through rocks and forms them into sand, leaving nothing but the past remains of centuries of wear and tear and pushing and pulling and-

You control every turn I take- “Do not walk out in front of that car” and “Do not push yourself so far down you cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel”

You are the reason I wake up each day, and vow to myself to survive, for if I survive today, one day I will live

I count the days until I will tell you; fearing each day that you will find someone who could love you better then I, a person who is not a whirlwind of emotions and hair and everything negative in the world but is beautiful and a doll and will become the grass on your core, melting the molten rock and oozing out on late nights when no one is home and not a soul is awake

And I cannot sleep knowing there will be someone who will love you better than I; cannot breath knowing there will be the doomsday of my heart, when it falls to pieces and is crushed like marrow with the same nails that molded me to be something I was not; cannot stay in one place as long as I know I have one in a million chance of winning you, a piece in the lottery that is greater then the reward; cannot scream for my lungs have given out, my throat has dried out and there are no more tears left to spill for a man who does not look at me twice

You are the first beautiful thing I have latched on to, and you will not be the last I will let go of
I see my resolve like wax to fire.

I will be the phoenix from the ash.
I will not grant them my laboured breath in anxiety,
only pleasure.
You may have bruises, but only on my skin.
I smack
I choke.

Keep your hands off my heart.

Although I know that I would wear it like a black eye, shining, if only I had the belief.
Give me a something to chainmail my smile.
Only arrows can get in.
And only those with the intention to aim true
 Dec 2013 Ashley Williams
Helen
is that even a word?
literaturely?
who cares really?
It is now, to me

I have oft complained
the seductive heat
of tar and ink
that has literaturely
clogged my veins
and in turn
gummed my brain
often touting screams
that proclaim
NOT SANE
is here to remain
but I was wrong?

When last I cut my wrists
the pain ran Red
and inside my head
I literaturely turned Blue
Who knew?
that all things unsaid
are put to bed
on a razors edge
cutting my soul in half
that never once
turned on you

I literaturely turned gray

I paled beneath dying embers
of forgotten burning fires
dulling as ash coated remnants
of long ago desires

I now step back
from the fray
I've had my weak
my day
and upon the hour
where the clock strikes
the 780th minute
13 leaves a sour
taste in my mouth

turning all good things South
swimming in blackness
in my new ruby red
bathing suit
that literaturely
turned white
I literaturely died
tonight

Now a mute
blood red in vane
I sit and stare
at the bones
of my soul
that remain
A ghastly caricature
of a misspent life
that can't negotiate
the road at the bend

I literaturely can
no longer
comprehend
 Nov 2013 Ashley Williams
REAL
It seemed to have
cooled down your head


all those times

we spent
running  through the clouds
at night

laughing
laying near a pond

looking the infinit stars

as our bones
melted in the green grass
 Nov 2013 Ashley Williams
REAL
walking in the rain
and i felt my bones growing old
with each drop
witch each step
and the piano plays in my head
oh it plays
just reminding me
when i used to run
instead of crawl
all i wanna do is grab my rope
tie it around the moon
fly around world
so that my eyes fill with its beauty
like the notes of the saxophone
on that night,chilling night
were i saw you sitting in the cafe
drinking out of that cup
and you looked down that cup
looking for something important
maybe you were looking for me?
hoping you saw my reflextion wither delicately
you didn't know i stood outside, as the snow
took me away
with the notes repeating in my head
and my eyes flew
and i run through these woods avoiding
those traps i might fall down
pretending i need to go somewhere
well i kinda do
i just wanna scream in a group of people
out to the stars
NA NANANA NANA NAA
and the stars would come and fall asleep on our cold hearts
dancing with those smiles
of raspberry memories
laughing at our jokes
we end up crying
you'll be watching from your window
wondering why why why
oh i'll just watch smile on by
with  my cold fingers leaving marks in the air
traveling through my hair

oh man
"just fall asleep in the grass"
they said

i put on a big smile
and fell back
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