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 Oct 2014 ashw
Jay Ash
Solus
 Oct 2014 ashw
Jay Ash
There is naught but cold
as the days grow old
and our faces become lined
but our expressions stay bold;

there is nothing but hate
where once love did accumulate
and our hearts, now stone,
are weary as we mutilate;

there is not but death
in the place of mirth,
where life once thrived:
we dare not take a breath.

And now maligned,
alone,
we live contrived.
 Oct 2014 ashw
Jay Ash
oblitus
 Oct 2014 ashw
Jay Ash
I knew you
you knew me.

now i pretend you are new
and you do the same;
we ask questions
that we have long known the answers to.

all in the hopes
that one day
you'll love me
as i have loved you
oblitus (latin): "forgotten"
 Oct 2014 ashw
Jay Ash
light
 Oct 2014 ashw
Jay Ash
there we see it
in the distance

at times it closes upon us
at times it flees our sight

but it returns as sure as tomorrow's sun
as sure as tomorrow's sun?

if ever there was a thing less certain
as the rise of the tomorrow's sun.
 Oct 2014 ashw
Ironatmosphere
The withdrawal is killing me
My cells are longing for the warmth of your body
For the feel of your skin on mine
For the vision of you to be on my corneas
My hands are itching to hold yours
My heart feels like it’s caving in upon itself
I can’t breathe
I need to be near you
I need to feel you
I need you
The withdrawal is killing me
 Oct 2014 ashw
VG E Bacungan
The world where I stood was a desert
thirsty for a pint of rain;
longing for a kiss that never came.
Not until you did.

Everything started with a droplet of your essence,
Out of nowhere. Unexpected.
YOU... yes you MANIFESTED.
Without notice, you took me by surprise.
A beautiful surprise I say.
For the first time in a while I felt,
my worries washed away by your presence.
Hot sand turned mud where then I lay.

In those moments I lost,
all anxieties brought by drought.
When through the years I thought
I'd never touch the rain I ought
to ardently pray for every night.
Imbued I was with your* "love".

clothes soaked. body wet. soul drunk.

your name the promise I mutter through the drizzle.
This body jived to the beat of a million sizzle.

Moments passed faster than it seemed.
I, taken away by lust of a parched soul.


I slurped. I gulped. I glugged.

as much as I could, never thinking of
what I would drink in the latter.
When the land runs dry;
when then again,
I'm deprived of water.

So then, what caught me by surprise,
left without a word... woah,
SURPRISE!
everything turned back the way it was;
an arid heart in a blink of an eye.

But what makes me wonder is this delusive sense,
of your cooling touch amidst this false pretense;


I smell–
Your scent stick to my chest like perfume odour.
My nostrils clogged with the aroma of your neck.
A waft that distorts the senses of this
consumed man.

Thoughts of you linger long after you are gone...
*Like the fragrance of rain that stays after the downpour.
A poem
for her.
or maybe
for myself.

#MovedOn
 Aug 2014 ashw
Chris T
i don't know what it is about this airport,
maybe it's the fact that i've a plane waiting
to deport me back home for who knows how long
and this is something i don't want; home is a prison.
this airport is making me think,
what awaits after four hours is a return to bad things,
and maybe i should **** myself.
i've thought that an option for years,
it's there and most likely it'll happen in the future
but maybe i should speed up the process.

this isn't a poem.
this is me thinking out loud
into the ear of a paper.
this is me gathering
my thoughts
attempting
to make sense of this
overwhelming sadness
and desire to give up.

the three or five people that seem to care about me
live hundreds of miles away so for them, no matter
how much i want to do it, i can't **** myself because
they wouldn't hear of my death,
they wouldn't come to my funeral,
and it'd be like i'd disappeared without saying goodbye
which is the biggest crime and betrayal i could pull.
if i told them before hand they'd say anything to stop me
and i don't have the heart to listen to that.

i'm tired and i'm crumbling.
i'm not sure this is a life i want to pursue.
what's the point of it?
fighting with yourself
morning after morning for control.
that's no way to live.
and living for other people's sake
isn't quality either.

this isn't a poem and this isn't a suicide note
or anything of the kind. this is me letting it out
inside a ***** airport restroom stall crying once again
for the first time in what'll be many nights to come.

the paper is getting soggy and a thousand people
heading in every direction of every corner of the globe
stroll unaware outside. i suppose it's time to put the pen down
and leave.

good bye for now.
maybe next time we can write a poem together.
i'm really sorry. i can't do this anymore but i have to.
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