Ash - Hello Poetry

Ash Apr 21

alive

the light bursts through, glowing
not scattered or winnowing in
the grasses are thick, and even taller still
the creek itself is quiet, but there are children playing there,
among the ticks and cats, birds and gnats
and here, i realize i am more alive
than i have ever been

who knew that living in dark woods in the middle of nowhere during your formative teenage years does a number on your brain. we moved back to civilization a few weeks ago.

#alive #comfort

Ash Jan 22

Ignition

I hear it under the wind
a whisper so faint, to be taken back
as if it was never spoken

I hear it over the hill
a murmur betwixt the grass, cut short
out of fear it was remembered

I hear it in the woods
a slow chanting, but shrouded
in the night, away from starlit eyes

I hear it on the wind
it travels to me now, a whistle
harmonic to the air and the sky

Try as you might,
the birds are singing the song of the people.

Ash Dec 2024

in devotion

that “star cross’d lovers” must be true
your radiance to my pale and blue
heavy on my heart, your golden hue
in sunsets i pray my honor to

#love

Ash Nov 2024

settled

tonight, i pull my blanket up to my chin
unsure if it is to comfort or suffocate
whether i slumber for good, or to wake
in a world most unfamiliar

#anxiety #uncertainty

Ash Oct 2024

In the dark

The bed only knows the weight
That leaves it for, unknowingly, the last time;
The warmth no longer pressed to its quilt,
The down that will never sink again

This came to my mind at around 3:00 AM last night, the perspective of the bed. It was built and made to serve us at our most restless, our most vulnerable, but we don’t often lend it the kindness to tell it why someone leaves. Does it know? Or does it wallow thinking it has wronged us in some way?

#bed #love #lost #leaving

Ash Sep 2024

never bear to bury it

and while I claim to be free
to soar over these fairytale castles
into bigger dreams, better things
some part of me still dwells here
and begs—would you still have me?

#pining #yearning

Ash Sep 2024

Untitled

my mother's wedding dress
cut through the middle,
a red ribbon slashed against skin
unwound, destroyed, unknown