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 Feb 2016 Ashley Nicole
moss
I explain my metaphors with metaphors
I don't know how else to express
My thoughts that sit in clutter drawers
And leave my mind a mess

If you don't understand my comparison
I'll just say it in a different way
My thoughts still shielded by a garrison
Suppressing things I need to say
Is this the future you wanted?

To see the children suffering

To orphan the young

To sing your song of freedom?



Is this the future you wanted?

To see buildings destroyed

Children all alone

To sing your song of freedom?



Is this the future you wanted?

Thousands dead or dying

Thousands of dollars of debt

To sing your song of freedom?



Is this the future you wanted?

Children free to play

Woman free to marry

Men, singing their songs of freedom



Is this the future you wanted?

Music fills the air

It's a song

A song of freedom
This was a poem I had written for English about the Civil War.
 Feb 2016 Ashley Nicole
Pixievic
Back & forth the waves roll in
Challenging the beach
The foaming surf offers up a dream
That so far is out of reach

I wish I could live among the waves
Like the seal that I've just seen
Without a care for what comes next
Or for what has ever been

To swim among gigantic whales
Majestic in their song
Content with life - to carry on
Knowing they belong

To fly up high above the swell
Like the seagulls do
Playing in the clouds of spray
They all know the truth

Happiness is a gift

That we can not take for granted
In the profoundness of the ocean
Seeds of hope will now be planted

Back & forth the waves roll in
Their cycle never ends
My life continues to evolve
The sea will help me mend

(C) Pixievic 2016
The sea is my sanctuary
 Feb 2016 Ashley Nicole
JR Rhine
Your love rains down
                                       from the shower head.

Sharp needles of fire
                                                                ­                  dousing cold feet.

                                   It feels like daggers,

                                               and wouldn't be so,

if I hadn't lingered for so long,
                                                                           in my frigid hesitancy.
I've been reading "Coney Island of the Mind" by Lawrence Ferlinghetti. Part of the jazz-inspired Beat generation, his writings are incredibly experimental and diverse. Definitely check him out if you haven't.
 Jan 2016 Ashley Nicole
A
I love when it's cold outside
And you can't tell where the cigarette smoke ends
And your breath begins

We're all so ******* toxic
 Jan 2016 Ashley Nicole
A
I could hear my name being called above the noise
I went and sat with my anxiety
Over by the exit, just in case
We took shots for every possible negative outcome that could arise from this evening's outing

Before I could collect my thoughts, see how I was feeling
I was led over to the corner
Where my depression was sitting all alone under a table
We took shots for every reason no one would miss us when we're gone

Once the alcohol soaked in, they became silent
And it's funny to me to think that the only reason I drink with them
Is simply because it's the only time I can pretend they aren't there
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