My old self
Look here you are
Happy
Loved
Doing what you want
Living life on your terms
Getting better
With the one you love
Yes you survived
Dear old self
We all survive at last
Self Love
Poem 10
Self Love
By: Ashley L Powers
I’m proud of who I am
The woman before you has been through many trials
Had to fall on my face numerous times
But each time taught me a lesson
Not ashamed of my failures
Each time presented a challenge
And every time I accepted them
Fought through them
And came out victorious
I had to learn to love myself
Because if I didn’t
How was I going to know if others really loved me
The end result is the woman standing before you
Shattered but never broken
Damaged but not destroyed
One to Grow On
I can’t drown out that rhythm of venom, that cadence of wrath,
and the accretion of thriving muck at the bottom hungers, always.
A long breath hisses inward between teeth clenched without volition:
All life is sacred, and none is more sacred than our own,
the audience must needs think of me as pure and merciful;
A simple, clear song.
Outside of an asteroid or pyroclasm,
nature will bury this field of joys
But know I’m filled with wonder,
when shove comes to push.
In eyes deep as the well of souls,
the beauty of it is, you can be whatever you want!
Embody
Embody
Welcome to these bones
The frame of your home
Notice the curve of the walls
The cathedral of your chest
The acoustics a perfect match
To your heart beat
HEAR your lungs
Ceaselessly stoking
The kilns of your cells
FEEL your softness
Secure and wrap you safely
TASTE your tears and sweat
That set free any bitterness
SMELL your scent
The chemistry only you carry
SEE your unique design
A blend only you can be
Please stay here
Tend and embody
This ecology
Lies and Truth (Haiku)
Break me down again,
With word touched with lies and truth
Hidden by your smile.
Questions at the Precipice
Is there a slow transition from living to dying?
Or does it happen instantaneously?
When my feet stopped growing at thirteen
I realized I can wear those 7.5 size shoes forever.
Did that signal my march towards the grave?
When I stopped growing a year after
I reached 5’5, the tallest I will ever be.
Is that when my body began to sink into the Earth?
Or was it when the summer excitement
mellowed each year to weariness?
Or even earlier
when my father stopped carrying me to bed from the car?
Is that where it begins?
Ends?
Imprint
Imprint
Dark, Cold, Empty
Just distance and loneliness that lay next to me
Where did he go? He was just here…
With his legs wrapped around me
His lips kissing me and his hands
Caressing every inch of my frame,
But now, all I feel is chills and space
Where he once laid his head next to mine
Where did he go?
Does he know that when he left, he would take every piece of me
Every piece that Was Still Living
Does he know that when he left,
he left me with this empty, cold feeling of loneliness
He took my mind, all I can remember is the conversations we had.
Conversations about life, goals, and our future while he laid next to me
But now when I look beside me he’s not there
Just an empty space with his body imprint on my sheets
He took my soul when I opened up my heart to him
Thinking he would never go, hoping he would stay and savor this treasure I gave him
He took my spirit away, theres no life in this room
Where our once beautiful relationship was made
As I look at where he use to lay all I see is an empty space
Where the person I love use to lay, but he left with no concern
about the person who he once said he cared about
All that’s left is me and his imprint on my sheet…
I don’t want to carry him in my heart
I don’t want to consume him in my soul
I don’t want to feel this thing call love
Really what Is love?
I don’t want to hear those words
I love you…
I don’t want to grasp the emotions
Of being in love
Really does love exist?
I don’t want to feel the embrace, call love making
I don’t want to hold this feeling call affection
In my heart
Really is this affection of love or lust
I don’t want to think about this thing call love
imprint
Dark, Cold, Empty
Just distance and loneliness that lay next to me
Where did he go? He was just here
Dear Freckle Face (A Letter to My Former Selves, Hour Twelve)
Dear Freckle Face
(A Letter to My Former Selves)
To the six-month-old hardhead
who felt the need to prove your independence
by crawling off Grandma Peggy’s mattress
and connecting with the hardwood headfirst…..
being first at everything isn’t always a good thing.
To the freckle-faced, four-eyed first grader,
so proud to pedal that little pink bicycle
all the way home
all by yourself
in the bitter winter cold,
then fling it into the yard in frustration
once you reached your destination….
remember home is the place where when you have to go there, they have to take you in.
To the geeky seventh grader
from the wrong side of the tracks,
so full of unwarranted anger and desperate for acceptance
she once snorted a packet of Sweet ‘n Low
and set her nose on fire for days trying to build this badass persona….
it’s okay to be young and stupid, but it’s just as okay to be yourself.
To the angsty high school junior
who fell in love for the first time,
had her first awkward kiss,
broke up with her boyfriend and swore the world
must be coming to an end
and her heart would never heal….
he was the first, not the last. There will be others.
To the young lady away at college
and living on her own for the first time,
ready to take on the world,
thinking she knew it all…
with education comes knowledge, but with experience comes wisdom.
To the chubby grungy redhead
wearing flannel and sneakers,
with a Bud Light in one hand and
a Marlboro in the other….
look to your left. See that young man in the wheelchair?
He will change your life forever, in ways you could never comprehend. Give him a chance.
To the twenty-year-old newlywed,
wondering what to say to your husband who was just wheeled into the room
after losing his right leg…
it doesn’t really matter. With cracked lips and dry mouth, he kisses your face and sobs.
All he wanted was to know you were there.
To the weary-eyed thirtysomething woman
who sits steadfastly at his bedside,
holding his hand and stroking his flat head,
feeling your heart break as you listen to his ragged breaths
fall fewer and further between,
as you whisper “I love you” and tell him it’s time….
this isn’t goodbye. He will always be a part of you. You wouldn’t be you if it weren’t for him.
To the middle-aged widow
who has struggled to move forward for seven years,
but has tried to rediscover her purpose,
in spite of the obstacles Life has thrown her way…..
Even baby steps show movement.
You got this girl. Never forget you’re a survivor!
Love
Love
Love
Love
Do people even understand the meaning of love anymore
People use the 3 words phrase like there’s no real meaning behind it
I love you means nothing or just something to say when you think its appropriate
Love
Love
Love
Can people truly love just one person
Can the person be enough for that one person
Or are there to many temptations or our mind just so curious that being with one person isnt enough
Love
Love
Love
To much emotions nowadays when you think about love
People feel when you love someone your exceptions grews and sometime that person can’t reach your expectations and you take that as them not loving you
Love
Love
Love
Just love with an open heart, no expectations, clear mind to want to make that person happy without looking elsewhere
Love
Love
Love
When you find that person that truly love you every doubt about love with disappear
Because when they use the 3 words phrase
I love you
Love will be love
Love
Love…..
Just One More Glass
Every now and then, I feel
a little tension, a little
longing for excitement,
for poison to just
run through my usual
healthy body.
Every now and then, I want
something different, something
uncertain, something wrong
that gives no nutrition,
so I take a glass
of posion and
drink it up.
Last night, it was you.