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-THOMASSANDERS
~Ashton Grayson Everly
i'm not even sorry.
The class of my death
Strolling in each day
Day after day
To know things I already know
To experience things I have already experienced
To await the internal fade away that is my life
To await my life

Every day the same
School, repeat
Nothing more
Nothing less
Nothing experienced
Nothing gained
Nothing matters
But now we just wait, hoping one day something might change
That something might been different
That something might make better
To start a new
But no
We just await.
Just await our deaths

Every day looking around, the same person
Wanting nothing more
Nothing less
But it will never happen
It could never happen
Nothing at all
But I just sit here and wait
To await his death

Day after day,
School, people, repeat
Nothing more
Nothing less
To just await
Our death
written by: Trev
My teacher told me,
"Write something.
It's required."
So, I did.

And it hurts,
to put it down
on paper,
to share it with the world.

But I was inspired.
He inspired me.
It's a mess of all the things in my head,
but it all comes back to him.

it hurts
when you see someone this attractive.
he has messy brown hair
with golden streaks

and eyes
like a oceanic abyss.
he smiles as if
i'm the funniest thing in the world.

and his laugh
is the music
my ears have unknowingly longed to hear
all my life.

he's a musician,
an actor.
his voice is like the rocks on the shores
that sirens lured sailors into.

it's the rough,
raspy,
most beautiful kind
of angelic.

he's beautiful,
and
i think
i love him.

~Ashton Grayson Everly
i will never forget him
as long as i live.
he's the light
that has guided me from my darkness.
i fell for him once, then fell again.
and i can only hope for the best...
Karla told me to give up art.
You really aren't very good at it, she said,
And suggested I take up drinking full time, instead.

At least with a beer in your hand,
You project a sense of purpose, she said
Even if it's only to empty the glass.

But your poems ramble on forever,
Your short stories always stop in the middle,
Maybe you should combine the two, she suggested
And blew her cigar smoke down the front of my sweater.

We will call them stoems she said and laughed,
And challenged me to a push up contest,
Right there on the dance floor.

I declined, she knew I would,
Then let's dance with our backs to each other, she said,
And defend this art of yours, silly puzzles no one can comprehend.
Karla is a strong woman. A bit of a ***** but she talks to me straight. Which is interesting because I think in hair pin turns and mud puddles. I love her dearly. And she owes me money. Which I know I will never see. I don't care.
  Aug 2018 Salem Emerson Reid
BMG
Falling for a liar
I keep asking myself why?
You said my wall was the problem
My wall built to the sky

You didn't realize
what you had done
Every time that you came by
You put my hand on the gun

Step by step I went
Just building that wall higher
Brick by brick it grew
Falling for liar

That's exactly what it'll do
itll make you feel so numb
Realizing nothing you said was true
How could I be so dumb

So high no one could see the top
Looking down from my sky scraper
I couldn't figure out how to stop
Walls and walls built with newspaper  

Here I can see you from a far
I can predict who's trouble
Some say I'm too close to the stars
Far away from your dirt and rubble

Blinded by the light
Nowhere near the ground
All your pretty words
Couldn’t ******* back down

My shelter from the storm
Here I know what's true
Miles and miles from your lies
My clarity is nowhere near you.
  Apr 2018 Salem Emerson Reid
Life
I do not miss him. Nor do I miss myself as a victim.
I'm neither suffering nor melancholic.
Nothing pulls me back.
Nothing at all, except that I was whole.
Maybe I was a victim, but at least I was something.
Maybe it was painful, but at least I felt something.
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