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 Mar 2015 Ashley Nicole
Mosaic
Body
 Mar 2015 Ashley Nicole
Mosaic
My elbow pops
Like the way the word
Snap dragon sounds

My freckles aren't constellations
They're reminders that I am not
Dark and ancient
Like my ******* father

My hair
FRIZZY
Like a pumpkin on fire

Voice
So sweet it makes me sick
And now all my teeth have fallen out

My throat swollen
A cave with an avalanche stuck inside
Dead bats
And stalactites like toothpicks
I don't need

Nails
Like tree bark
Hollow in all the right places

Scars
Like a record
Of the way I hurt myself
Put it on Repeat
Till it scratches

Cheeks like high school
Like humiliation
With four eyes perching
Not lucky clovers

And eyes glued on
With one glued on wrong

And knees that I'm constantly falling down on
 Mar 2015 Ashley Nicole
Dreamer
The black of mascara
creates a stark contrast
among a beautiful, perfect face,
while her heart is devoid
yet consumed within.
She sits in a dark lone corner
gently sobbing with feeble fingers
folding over ashen lips,
where no light can reach her
no touch can near her
and wan lips whispering silently
into the echoing of empty long halls,

*"I only wished to have someone love me..
as much as I loved him..."
You'll be the first one to send a text
The first to say you're ready to commit
And if one day you show me you no longer care
I'll act like I never *gave a ****
 Mar 2015 Ashley Nicole
AJ
I just really want to kiss you, not miss you
***** sleep if you don't need to go school for a week cause you're switching
 Mar 2015 Ashley Nicole
ThePoet
Cry me an ocean,

not a river

I like depth,

not flow

©
 Mar 2015 Ashley Nicole
ThePoet
How much do you have to hate life

to not be scared of death?

©
The moon shines a cool blue tonight
as we entwine our fingers, laying on the baseball field
beneath diamond heavens. We lie
in silence, in the moments when the Universe reveals
itself, and contemplate the distances between one celestial body to
another, the space between
us growing as I turn south
to find Orion while you seek Cassiopeia in the north.

Shooting stars cross the sky, and we wish separately on dead
stars and dead dreams, lights already grown red and extinguished
as we whisper in the dark, passing
between phases.

And in the end we're all left searching.
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