ashlyn

// 19 // wannabe poet // a mess of my writings, feelings, & inspirations  // Goulddigger // LG{B}T+ 🏳️‍🌈 //

[buttonpoetry]

Some things I have loved will never love me back.

Anis Mojgani - “Today’s Love” (Great Plains 2015)

[goulden-elyxia]

if i gave up

and if i left -

i would only wonder:

would you miss me - would you want me back?

[jamesandrewcrosby]

Buy my new book “Letters & Stories” here or on Amazon

[goulden-elyxia]

“I can’t get you off of my mind

why do I keep wasting my time?

...

why can’t I make you love me?”

[goulden-elyxia]

shy

it came to me, late last night,

between the tears,

how it’s always been like this.

from as young as I can remember

I never could truly be me.

and when I tried, I was ridiculed and 

I never did it again.

I was always the weird kid

the one that everybody liked a lot 

but no one really wanted to get to know

to really be friends with.

through elementary school

middle school

even as I made my way through high school,

it never seemed like anyone particularly disliked me

but it took me a large majority of those four dreadfully long-but-short years

to actually find friends that seemed to truly care about me.

and once I did, it was time to leave, time to let go

time to move on.

but how was I supposed to move on, move 1,000 miles, from the only stability I’d found in my life?

thrown into new territory again, and at first it was easier to be open.

I’d just come off the high of the summer of my life 

with people I wasn't’t afraid to be myself around anymore.

but these new people, I didn’t know them.

I hid from them,

and came out of my freshman year of college with only one solid friend,

only one person I felt I could be myself around, 

and even with her,

my brain told me to hide.

and I came  back “home” to a group of dramatically changed people.

it feels like I’m all alone all over again.

back to the “shy” little girl I once was,

hiding my anxiety behind a personality trait given to me by my overbearing mother.

alone.

[dearestvita-deactivated20221122]

“But I think one day I will,—tell somebody, one person, something—the truth, just once,—just to see how it feels.”

— Rosamond Lehmann, from Dusty Answer

[michaelfaudetpoems]

[likewildhorses]

supercut - lorde

[jamesandrewcrosby]

Typewriter Poetry #1234 by James Andrew Crosby

Buy my new book “Letters & Stories” here or on Amazon

[goulden-elyxia]

I want to live and not just survive.

Love in the Dark, Adele

[jamesandrewcrosby]

Buy my new book “Letters & Stories” here or on Amazon

[prospects]

[goulden-elyxia]

nothing feels real

nothing feels right

[jamesandrewcrosby]

Forgotten Letter #855 by James Andrew Crosby

Buy my new book “Letters & Stories” here or on Amazon

[jamesandrewcrosby]

Forgotten Letter #850 by James Andrew Crosby

Buy my new book “Letters & Stories” here or on Amazon

[visual-poetry]

poetry surrounds us everywhere, but putting it on paper is, alas, not so easy as looking at it.

vincent van gogh (via visual-poetry)

[goulden-elyxia]

when was the genesis of our destruction?

tell me, when did the first thread start to pull?

and which of us tugged first, harder?

did we realize just what we were doing

or did we simply need to get rid of the loose ends?

it didn’t work, 

nothing was tied in a nice, neat knot,

everything unravelled, falling into a soft, fragile pile at our feet.

i picked up the needles, ready to knit our hearts back together but suddenly 

you went silent.

my soft wool cannot mesh with your harsh metallic fibres.

yet i still hold those needles, tearing my threads as they become 

stuck

on the ragged ends of yours.

and when i’m finished our hearts are painfully meshed back together.

we speak like this is normal.

we act like this is how it always was.

(maybe it was)(maybe i never noticed the harsh center of your threads covered

 in velvety fabric promises)

when was the genesis of our destruction?

and tell me, (when) will it ever end?