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  May 2016 Ashley Nicole
ryn
My mirror hangs stoic,
as silently it absorbs all it could with unbiased eyes.
All it receives under the day's sun.
Yet it never stores...
Not memories recent...
Not images perceived from the distant past...

My mirror
exists in the now.
It gives me only the present.
It reveals unequivocally the ground
upon which I stand.
It divulges only in the brutal and honest truth.
The kind of truth photographs could never tell.

Today it showed me what I've been seeing
with eyes half shut.
It showed me that,
I am older now.
Older than I was yesterday.
Older than I was a second ago.

Every wrinkle told a silent tale.
Every tale left quiet scars.
Every scar sang requiems of past mistakes.
And every mistake costed me my youth.

My mirror showed me that...
I'm older now because I've learnt much.
And I'm learning much more
because I'm older now.
An old photograph of myself inspired this.
Ashley Nicole May 2016
Death has no prejudices. No favorites.
It doesn’t care if you’re young or old, rich or poor.
Death is inevitable, whether or not you’re ready for it.

But once you're dead, what's it like?

It’s like you’re never really in one place, rather everywhere all at once. Like your conscience has been sprinkled throughout the world like grains of sand and your breath is part of the wind.
Your voice is now the rustling of the trees and your blood is rushing water in the rivers. You’re no longer confined to a vessel and you feel like you’ve never actually felt completely free until now.
Your energy that was manifested in your body is now recycled back into Earth. There’s an immense sense of belonging and contentment, like you’re comfortably numb.

There is no sense of time.
The years, days, hours, minutes, seconds; mean nothing.

When you’re young, you feel indestructible. You feel immortal.
There’s always a tomorrow because the sun is promised to rise the next day. It’s hard to imagine a day that you won’t exist anymore.
It’s easy to take things for granted. Sometimes it’s hard for people to realize how fragile human beings really are.
It doesn’t take much for our soul to be ripped from our bodies.
Not much at all.
These are some excerpts from a paper that I had to write for my Death&Dying; college course this semester. We had to write about how our own death. After reading my paper, my professor wrote something very special to me on the last page. She told me that it was the best paper she had read and she absolutely hoped that I was pursuing a career in writing. As an aspiring writer, this meant SO much to me.
I stopped fearing the night
When I realized
The darkness was
*Inside me
Inspired by Joker's Quote.
  Apr 2016 Ashley Nicole
Austin Bauer
Becoming human does not require
Writing sad or dark poetry.
Rather, it requires rejoicing
Amongst the darkness
That can so easily
Encapsulate us all.
  Apr 2016 Ashley Nicole
Little Bird
We lay beneath the sky
And make our
own constellations
Shaping the world
The way that we
Wish it could be
With love, kelsey
Ashley Nicole Apr 2016
She carefully creased the corners,
Bookmarking her favorite parts.
Because the words on those pages
Seemed to touch her heart.
Aniya lent me a book and I noticed she does what I do
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