celeste-leigh-ashford @celeste-leigh-ashford - Tumblr Blog

don/joy

I can’t explain how it feels.

All time low and then fully back to the beginning.

I went in a circle.

Not just around the sun

But around my waist, my thighs, my everywhere.

It’s too easy to go backwards.

Its like the orbit of a star around a black hole.

Crawling away, struggling against the gravity,

Only to get whisked back in.

Healthy sure.

Happy? Less so.

It feels so unending.

Everything is crashing down.

Therapy, insurance, guilt,

Silence

Desire

Limitation,

Impatience and fear

I can’t figure this out.

I thought i was over this.

I don’t want to make others concerned about me if it's not something physical

but i am Deteriorating.

hydraulic press

corked.

It's there,

I know it.

But i can’t feel it anymore.

Its been just over a week.

I don’t understand how

Such a small amount of time

can feel so long.

I don’t know how to reach it.

It’s pressurising.

Like the new instant pot in her kitchen.

I’m glad the lid i bought fits it.

Her cactus clipping sits in my car.

Probably too dried or cold to be planted now.

I’ll probably try to plant it anyway.

She said I can always come back

take another if it fails.

The thing is,

I feel like I’ve failed.

Failed at knowing how

To, move through this,

And still feel whole.

I know the bottle has been broken before

But why is it so invincible now?

Did the glass shards break what nerves are left?

Can i no longer feel?

Except

Theres that lump at the back of my throat

The feeling as though the emotion is about to well and spill

And yet its perpetually balanced on this tipping edge.

Always regaining enough footing

Never Actually crashing to the earth.

Remaining filled to the brim,

Close to breaking

But never close enough.

relentless

notification

true, false, fear, overwhelm, hope...

refreshing the page

jolie laide

The prompt was to make a beautiful poem about what’s weighing me down.

How do i turn stress into beauty.

How do i make the cracks in the foundation

Stop looking like spiders webs

Weaving their way around, invisible at most angles

Disgusting and scaring everyone who walks into them.

How do i turn the cracks into a pattern like marble

Make myself look wealthy and happy

Like broken japanese pottery repaired with gold

How can i take my scars

And turn them into works of art.

Something to be envious of.

Not in a masochistic way

Purely in a status of wealth type of way.

How do i take my bones

And spell out all the things i want to say to you

How do you spell s.o.s.

with broken ribs and tiny finger bones

How do i let the walls come down without bringing you down with me.

reverence i suppose

They say people don’t change.

Boy oh boy have you.

.

Atheist

Depressed

In the wrong body

Bottles

Pens

Hair dye

Scarred

.

Devout

Happier

In love

Correcting the biology

Tattoos

Independent

Mature even.

.

Who are you now?

Are you really the same person?

The one that broke me all those years ago?

.

Maybe it’s not just the seasons that change.

I just don’t know if I’m ready.

I feel bad for saying no.

I feel bad for panicking when I see you behind the counter at starbucks.

I don’t know if you even knew it was me.

You probably did.

Do you remember when you wanted that tattoo in my handwriting?

Do you remember when you said we’d live in a white house and have three kids and a red suv?

Do you remember when I painted your brother’s nails holographic?

Do you remember when I told you how much I blamed myself for what you did?

Do you remember me?

.

If I reached out, what would you do?

I’m scared to even see your name on the screen.

What would you think of me now?

How much have I changed to you?

andromeda// old stranger

I knew your universe collided with his

I saw the cosmic beauty.

I watched the destruction from the outside.

The cosmic clash of two galaxies becoming one.

The aftershocks setting me adrift

Floating farther and farther away.

Til the tail ends of his galactic arms

Flung out enough gravity to keep me nearby.

But at this new angle i couldn’t see you as clearly.

Your stars dimmed in comparison to his vibrant ones.

Or so i thought,

He was just in between.

Distance is relative.

But i don't want to be here anymore.

I'd rather be a wallflower than part of this pas de deux.

Just let me drift off into the void.

Far far away from here.

i swear im trying//futility

I thought I was getting better,

My numbers were consistently a bit higher.

I wasn’t fighting myself as much to function.

I’m still harsh visually of course, but the fight wasn’t quite as hard.

I stopped tracking the daily numbers.

I gave a little less of a shit.

I checked my numbers that morning.

They were back at the low.

I wasn’t sure how.

I wasn’t mad or happy, just confused.

Then dinner.

Knowing it was so much.

Her mentioning how much hers was.

Crying in your apartment and being unable to talk to you about it,

for once uncertain of what you would say.

If it’s not working, what do I do now?

i’m 𝚗̶𝚘̶𝚝̶ who hurt me

i want to love you.

i want to do it right.

i don't know if i can.

i'm just an object

broken beyond repair.

a mess of pieces.

incapable of functioning even remotely close to the original status.

definitely worth less now.

erased the old operating system.

an empty shell filled with toxic waste.

.

in reality,

i don't know who i am without this baggage.

my suitcases hold my story

and if i unpack them onto shelves and marie kondo the things that don't spark joy

then what do i have left?

some pretty patterned suitcases that stand out in the airport baggage claim.

.

they’re rather simple actually.

they’re just navy instead of black.

.

the point is,

i want to love you.

and I know you're broken too,

so you deserve someone who can put you back together.

not a mirror.

not an amplifier.

not me.

borrowed

I already stand here

ticking like a time bomb

that someone took the liberty

to reset the timer for

.

a wave about to break

a tree about to fall

a twig waiting to snap

a flower waiting to be plucked

.

thorns in my sides

the other roses make it clear

toxic barbs and poison spines

the only reason i am here

.

i stand before you

a tattered tangle of pieces

held together by fear

waiting for my time to end

.

this time I’ve borrowed

or rather stolen

i hope whoever it belongs to

can reclaim it soon

.

I’d gladly return

These seconds

minutes and hours

to their rightful owner

.

someone more deserving

someone more caring

someone with a real purpose

someone with a vision

.

actions to be taken

time will stop

actions will stop

time continues

despite it all

remind me again what the point is,

why even have a body?

why even put in the effort?

doing it anyway,

feeling like shit.

.

remind me,

how am i not a ton of bricks,

weighing down upon every person i open up to,

and become too dependent upon.

.

remind me,

how am i not a bulldozer,

crushing everyone who tries to help,

flattening every hope and dream,

til the image in the rearview mirror blends straight into the horizon ahead.

flat and empty.

no bloated carcasses and roadkill,

save for my own behind the steering wheel.

rotting and decaying.

on the side of a road they haven’t finished paving.

waiting to disintegrate,

back into sand.

and blow away on the breeze.

.

remind me to keep going.

1312

Awareness and anger aren’t enough

Black lives matter

All lives will matter when everyone

Can breathe.

. all cops are bastards

We live in a world

where murder,

is spelled police brutality.

where an ideology,

is an arrest warrant.

where peaceful protests,

mean tear gas, mace, and pepper spray.

.

Wake up.

It's time for change.

. all cops are bastards.

emptiness [suffocating]

A glass overflowing with air.

You say it’s empty.

Its spilling over the edge

More and more pouring in.

But you’ll still say the glass is empty.

It looks like a teaspoon

Trying to hold

the entire ocean in its hands.

Impossibly tasked.

To you it’s still empty.

A glass filled to the brim with water.

The slightest touch sends

Drops sailing over the sides.

You say this is full.

Full of protection

from the ever present air.

Fully equipped for battle.

Full of armour.

Full of hope.

And utterly incapable of sharing.

she//my best friend

i miss you.

i miss your smile.

i miss riding in your car.

i miss the music.

the laughs,

the deep talks,

the vulnerability,

the fear,

the tears,

the safety within that space.

i miss your hugs.

the way you hold on tight,

never the first to let go.

i miss your arms around me.

i miss your lips on mine.

i know it only happened once but,

i still miss it.

i miss the scent of your shampoo,

my fingers in your hair,

the scent of your perfume

that reminded me of being drunk.

but now im drunk on the thought of you.

i just dont want to fuck this up.

i dont want to fuck this up.

A poem made from individual lines that were kinda ok

I’ve walked this circular path almost nineteen times. I’ve finally gotten dizzy.

Almost nineteen years and I have yet to learn you don’t see what you don’t look for.

Every morning I floss my teeth with lies

so when I smile

you won’t notice the tears hiding in my eyes.

Everyday

I’m reminded that it’s easier

to sit alone at a table set for two than a table set for four.

Yet here I am, staring out a window sitting alone at a table for 10.

Knowing full well no one is coming to join me.

That’s the one thing I have learned in these almost nineteen laps around the sun.

Depression taught me

that happiness is just an imaginary friend, and I’ll never be good enough for anyone.

That I’m better off alone.

And anyone who’s foolish enough to get close,

Will learn what it’s like to suffer the irony of

A fatal car crash in an emergency room parking lot.

poor connection

i can’t get the thought of you out of my head

and yet i sit here wishing i was dead

and i wonder

if i really loved you

would i really do

the things my brain tells me to.

and i wonder

how you could love something so broken

something so far beyond repair

something...

not worth saving.

and i wonder

if you could truly provide salvation

would i even be worthy of redemption

all this blood on my hands

my eternal damnation.

yet here you are.

a light in the dark.

a smile from afar.

a pretty face on the screen.

that chooses to spend time

with someone as terrible as me.

don’t go left

why do i feel disgusting

for having done the right things?

why do i get so mad at myself for not trying

and then

when i do try,

its like i didn’t do enough

or i burdened someone by reaching out.

why can’t my brain just be normal?

can’t i do anything right?

ruins

i want to let

the spaces between my ribs

turn from farm fields

to rolling hills

to mountains

to ravines.

i want to let

the creatures

that find comfort

in the hollow shadows

under the canopy

of my sternum

to feel the sunlight

on their faces and

question why

why they ever chose

to reside inside

such a dark and empty place.

i want to watch

as they abandon their posts

entranced by the light like moths

finally ceasing their work

of carving glyphs into my bones

to keep me under their spell.

Finally to feel

the erosion

take away my body

Return me to dust

And float away.

Free.

Finally

One with the wind.

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