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 Mar 2018 Nana ed
Ashly Kocher
My name is Ashly (yes spelled without
the E)
I was born without a windpipe and was 3 months premature.
I underwent surgery for a tracheostomy and died on the operating table.
I was revived.
I was hooked up to many machines and my parents were told I wouldn’t live for more then 3 days...
If I would survive more then 3 days I would be hooked up to machines my whole life and be in a “vegetative state”
Doctors told my parents and family “I would never live to see my 18th birthday.”
I lived in the hospital for almost 2 years.
At age 2, I myself, ripped out my tracheostomy (which could have killed me)
My family rushed me to children’s hospital and the doctors decided to let the hole in my neck close and see what happens.
My doctors don’t know how I made it through the night or days after.
I went home after a couple weeks and that’s when I started living my life as a “normal” child.
All of my sisters were involved in dance classes, my parents( doctors didn’t agree) enrolled me in to classes.
        THATS WHERE MY LIFE CHANGED
Dance became my passion, along with gymnastics and musical theatre.
Something my family, doctors or even myself never thought I would EVER do.
On my 18th birthday it was a mixture of emotions.
I made a milestone that no one said I would ever see.
I competed in dance and gymnastics until I was 19 years of age as well as did over 60 musicals at my local theatre company.
I never thought I would ever have a boy love me because I had “too many problems” or even get married for that matter.
Fast forward, I am now almost 33 ( June .11th is my birthday)
Married for almost 8 years to my best friend.
Happy doesn’t even cover what I feel everyday waking up next to my love.
We may not have a “family” of our own but we are happy and in love over the moon with one another.

So why did I just ramble on with this?
Because I’m a MIRACLE and a SURVIVOR.
Even though I don’t remember much from my childhood and what I and my family had to endure, I have been fighter since my first breath.

I’M A SURVIVOR and I’VE MADE IT....
Just a little insight to my story. I left out some details but y’all get the idea. Hope this helps to feel why I write and my story.
 Mar 2018 Nana ed
Grand Piano
Steps
 Mar 2018 Nana ed
Grand Piano
Step 1: Get out of bed
Step 2: Look in the mirror
Step 3: Practice your smile
Step 4: Eyedrops to hide the red eyes
Step 5: Conceal the dark circles
Step 6: Breathe
The curtains are almost up
Step 7: Lock down the pain
Step 8: Ignore the weight on your chest
Step 9: Silence the screams inside of your mind
Step 10: Choke down the sobs
Step 11: Ignore the stinging in your eyes
Step 12: Swallow past the tightness in your throat
You’ve put on this show a million times
Step 13: Don’t let them see
Times up. Curtains up. Camera rolling
You know how when you’re not ok but you try so hard to pretend you’re ok that it becomes a ritual
 Mar 2018 Nana ed
Her
Immortal
 Mar 2018 Nana ed
Her
the moment a poet
falls in love with you

is the moment
you live

f o r e v e r
 Feb 2018 Nana ed
mk
my body misses you more than i do

no, no,
hold up,
before you accuse me
of being a "*** addict"
or only "wanting you for your body"
hear me out

when i say my body misses you more than i do
i mean
when we
started being more like a you and a me
i didn't like it
but neither did my body

TMI but
my stomach hasn't been so well
going to the bathroom after every meal
and nausea kinda follows me around
it's hard to lift my feet off the ground
i feel heavy
like i don't know to explain
what that means
but basically
my knees are buckling
and there is a bolus of food
stuck in my windpipe
it's getting kinda hard to fight

last night i started craving
fried food and sugar
and okay- maybe that's just ***
but like
my period is a good ten days away
that's not to say
that it shouldn't be this way
but
it shouldn't be this way

i got onion rings
but then threw them all up
because i could smell the oil
there is downright turmoil
in this body of mine
its definitely not fine

i wonder if i have bulimia
but that seems too simple an explanation
there's more to this situation
yesterday we talked
and i felt like i could eat
a three course meal and keep it
but now,
****,
a bite and i run to the bathroom
is it food poisoning?
i doubt it
because if you were here right now
i would be fine

all that aside
my heart is crumbling
my chest is collapsing
i can feel my ribs
break and buckle
because they have no use
left anyway
with all that heart break
and ****

so
i miss you
i do
but my body does too
in sickness & in health-
 Jul 2017 Nana ed
Pluck
Mae She ?
 Jul 2017 Nana ed
Pluck
I think she's 6'1, I think about her from one to six then six to one.
Ironically she exceeds the highest standards, the bar is set, key qualities she's missing none.
She's like when the cover catches your eye and all of a sudden you can't put down the book.
When she walks in the room I get stiff as if "Andy" was written at the bottom of my foot.
I've got a pretty cold heart but in the news they're always saying climate change is coming.
If only the weather man could tell me when she'll get here & how long she'll stay, I can't stop wondering?
The best things in life are worth the wait.
She needs to live some more, be free and soar, doesn't need more on her plate.
I've felt before but those emotions were killing me.
This? I could feel this for infinity.
 Jun 2017 Nana ed
Aditi
Don't.
 Jun 2017 Nana ed
Aditi
Don't tell a rose how to grow,
And The birds how to chirp.
Don't tell your daughter to be soft,
Don't tell your son how to hurt.

Don't tell the sky what color to bleed,
And a person, the right way to grieve.
Don't try to tame your daughter's tongue,
Don't tell your son the manly ways to love.

Don't tell the wind which way to blow
Or the clouds how hard to rain.  
Don't teach your daughter how to soak,
Don't show your son how to easily reject.

Don't tell the sun to adjust its light
Or the truth how to show itself.
Don't tell your daughter it's feminine to shy,
Don't teach your son how to reign with fists held high.


Don't tell a heart how to beat
Or the mind how not to soar.
Don't clip off your daughter's  wings,
To make them a foundation for your son to grow.

Don't tell a rose how to grow,
Lest it decides to turn its petal into thorns.
Don't tell the birds how to chirp
And have their voices turn into rebellious growls.
Finally, one of my many poems was chosen as a daily.
Just been a 5 years.

I still can't believe it.

Also, thank you for all your reviews and love. I still don't think I'm a poet, I just usually ramble. But I'm so glad you guys gave this poem such love.
Means a lot.

Again, thank you very very much.
 Jun 2017 Nana ed
Antionicia
Just like your handwriting
You’re a mess
You hide yourself
By cunning words
Trying to disguise how you really feel
But that’s okay
I see right through the facade
You are the type of guy
Who sometimes cries alone
In his room
The type of guy
Who teases and messes with girls
Making them feel awful
Because it’s hard to express how you really feel
You are the type of guy
Who never shows his inner thoughts
You don’t believe anyone will understand
The chaos in your mind
But that’s okay
I see right through it
I am the type of girl
Who’s willing to put
My heart out there
However
You are the type of guy
Who never sees
A girl like me.
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