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I don't read poetry anymore. It's not that the writer's aren't good.

Or that I've lost interest.

I don't read poetry because everyone seems to be either in love
(and I'm not)
or everyone is heartbroken
(and I don't want to be reminded)

Or perhaps I just don't believe they can relate to me anymore. (Yeah, don't consider the possibility you can't relate to them anymore)

Who else had given seven years of their love to their best friend and it remain unrequited?

Who else finally managed to fall in love with a different girl only to have her taken from you?
(You blame her family, but she probably just hated you for ******* her life up)

Or for your last ditch effort at love, she ends up cutting contact for no reason, only for you to find out months later she was pregnant?

That's the one that finished me.

Unrequited love turned to a *** addiction that destroyed so many people.
(I was so selfish)

Don't say it doesn't have a price because I can take you to the grave of a girl who killed herself because I couldn't reciprocate that she fell for me.
(It's been two years and i still blame myself. i'm so sorry)

So the *** turned to alcohol and I wanted to feel numb. Just make me numb to it all.

I want to love someone who isn't married. Who doesn't already have a boyfriend. Who won't give up on me.
(I've long since given up on myself)

But I'm just a time bomb in their lives. An inferno that leaves permanent wounds.

Maybe that's why my best friend never fell for me.

I don't want me either.
//On her and muse//
I just need a moment to vent this. The circle I go through in my head.
,how do you know when
(a human is too broken?)




<•>

human too broken?

like the light bulb, removal from its fixture, a simple shaking revelation of the tinkling filament spent, something that cannot be repaired, the only option is replacement and that makes
you cry

the empty box of oatmeal raisin cookies, you find secret’d,
hid by you, not to be found by you
at the bottom of the kitchen garbage,
but box betrayal, by the chartreuse tipped box lid sided
peeking upwards, asking, silencing screaming,
what did I do to deserve
this degrading

like the blouse now too tight that it brings stares as the buttons strain, unwelcome attention unintended,
you know it but still pretend not to see,
for you both once loved that silky guise that so
heightened the high tender, the match of your pink rose skin letting, no! making
your eyes glisten, like broken filament glass, on the sidewalk,
recalling the pleasured admiration,
rain remembered from the
prior priority of a life consisting of only
perfect gifts

so mean revert to the poseur question; this is how...

remove the human from a fixed place, whimpering-threatened,
you may hear clear the crackle cackling  of the innard shards against the misperception of a body intact,
even if you do,
no repair service you want,  can be found, see it nowhere,
is it even
anywhere advertised?

the body presumed intact is secret’d under a tactile coverlet,
holey scupperrd holy cuttered
so that the cells and bicuspids, the threads
no longer function in a tandem,
you keep it in the closet closed,
in the back, deep hid, where,
when it screams why,
it can be safe ignored,
because  ‘betrayed’ is no longer a word,
in your globe's dictionary,
the parental controls activated by you to
save your own inner child’s unconstrained confusion,
it has been removed


so the broken glass, the clothes you dressed each other,
if not weep-well,
well enough hid,
the fit is off,
the fit is off,
the coverlet ripped so bad and neither cares
an unexpected poem, unplanned, needing work
aug 4-5
 Sep 2018 Ashly Kocher
Semicolon
Hey mom-dad, listen.
Hit me, hate me, throw me out,
But don't shut me up.
My dear mom, my dear dad,
Please listen to me talk.
You're the place where I can unveil myself and be true to who I am.
You're the place where I can pour my heart out and expect to be heard.
You're the place I want to spend my life talking and being heard.
Please don't tell me to shut up
Because I talk too much,
Because no one likes what I speak,
Because I talk *******,
Because no one would listen to me,
Because I need to stay silent sometimes,
Because nobody likes the stories I have to tell,
Please don't tell me to shut up,
Just because that's what I need to do.
Listen to me.
Please.
 Sep 2018 Ashly Kocher
Xaela San
I'm not "smart" like them.

I'm not "bright" as them.

I'm not "confident" like them.

I'm not "beautiful" as them.

I'm not "someone" like them.

Can you just accept that?

I don't like crying myself anymore

-Said myself in the mirror.
Mirror, mirror on the wall
 Sep 2018 Ashly Kocher
Desyrae
And I think finally
I might be getting over you
I'm finally getting over you...
 Sep 2018 Ashly Kocher
Oliver
I’ve lit the match
My mind is burning
My arms are yearning
My thoughts are turning
Into things I can’t catch.

I can’t stop the fire
The walls are aflame
I should carry the shame
Only I am to blame
For the red reaching higher.

I’m starting to choke
My mind is too brash
My thoughts turn to ash
My body will crash
I can’t see through the smoke.

I’m only dramatic
There is no fire
The situation isn’t dire
I’ve just tripped over the wire
Pacing through my mind’s attic.
 Sep 2018 Ashly Kocher
ardnaxela
Ev’ry body should
Feel a little bit worthless
Perhaps failure would
Then hurt just a little less
Don't make a mountain of  your burdens,
Try to climb over the mountain of your burdens.
your smile,
your face
can brighten
any day
of someone
in need

all you ever
have to do
is be beautiful,
be you,
and believe.
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