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 Apr 2018 ashtonbrehite
Paige
There's a girl that I follow on Instagram that is still in high school.
I don't know her real name, or where she lives but I see her post about her life and her problems.
Tonight I engaged with her and it was truly a blast from the past.
The problems that seem SO huge and forever are actually meaningless.
I tried to tell her that in a subtle way but of course she said she felt like she was going to throw up, and cry her eyes out
so I told her it's okay to feel that way.
An unrequited crush on one of her friends that is also dating one of her friends.
Lol geez.
I wanted to tell her to enjoy herself, enjoy that drama, and everything that comes with being a teenager.
I wanted to tell her life was only going to get harder and one day her problems would involve money, and figuring out where exactly you went wrong, why your life isn't what you had planned.
But of course I didn't. I'm not an *******.
I'm sure she hears that all the time and doesn't believe it anyway..
and why take away someone's hope and that wide eyed excitement for the world.
That is the best feeling.
Just the best.
This is not my poem
Sure I sat here and wrote it down,
but its not my poem.
Yes, yes I took the time to memorise it so I could see my words reflected in the expressions on your face as I read aloud...
but its not my poem.

This is your poem
You wrote this
You wrote this with your smile
the curve of your lips wrote this
the sparkle in your eyes punctuated every line and measured every pause, perfectly.
Your lips formed every word, sounded every syllable, created the melody that echos in my head as I write YOUR poem.

The rise and fall of your chest first catches my breath, then takes it away completely. Sensibilities and caution tumble down your back like rain in a warm summer shower that falls from a star filled sky, the heavens have opened. My heavens have opened. Caution is now a distant memory, like something once heard but long forgotten, something you knew you once knew but know you no longer have to remember so while there is at least an awareness of it, its passing will not be mourned.

And there, pooled in the small of your back, nestled just above the curve of your buttocks, lies hope.

The hope that the beauty I see in you, in us, in everything since we met isn't a mirage, isnt a projection of some one sided fantasy but that its real. That its as real for you as it for me and that I'm not alone. That I'm not alone in the way I feel and the way I think and the way........ the way.....the way I love. Its hope that knowing how I feel, how much I'm in love, in love with you, the hope that hearing me say out loud the very thing that I've had to fight telling you on a daily basis hasn't scared the **** out of you the way finally admitting it to you has me.
But this isn't my poem.
This is your poem.
You wrote it
and its my gift to you.
 Feb 2018 ashtonbrehite
zero
To My Lover,
my one and always;
the dance hall is empty without
our swing.
Come back to me, darling,
Let us waltz the halls again,
without a care in the world,
except for the fear of stepping on
our toes.

I've loved you since our first touch,
and since then, you have had
my heart in your cold hands,
let me warm them...
come and dance with me.
I want my arms around your waist.

Your hands on my neck.
Chivalry isn't dead.

-Z.xo
Never fall in love with a poet
for their words are sometimes lies
on occasions they're a shield
on occasions a disguise

They will take you on a journey
upon which they bare their soul
in a bid to ease your burdens
in a bid to make you whole

But in every word they choose
for the stories that they tell
lies a little piece of heaven
and a little piece of hell

Tormented souls we poets are
sometimes quite broken and despaired
in search of lost expressions
missed by others who once cared

Never fall in love with a poet
unless you're prepared to share their pain
to hold them close on the darkest nights
over and again
Follow me on Twitter @athomashawkins
http://twitter.com/athomashawkins
 Jan 2018 ashtonbrehite
victoria
For my love  

If someone asked me where I lived, I’d reply that I lived within you
If they asked me for a location, I’d say wherever your heart resides

If they asked me where I was born, I’d tell them that I was born from a part of you
If they asked what part, I’d reply both your heart and your soul

If they asked me where I’d like to live out my days
I’d sing to them that my days were only to be close by your side
And when they asked where I like to die, I’d simply reply within your warm loving arms.

— The End —