hate is an ember
that burns only who holds it
let go and you’ll heal
Is it a wish? Is it a dream? Is it a prayer? Is it a gift? To a father at Christmas, she’s all four. – Dad
Welcome back, join me and my continuing conversation about my thoughts, feelings, and emotions to the world around me.
In this episode, I talk about how you should still be happy even if it rains because it can make you feel completely alive. And, as always, I throw in a quote and a poem for good measure.
Enjoy!!
Email: earth2ash@gmail.com
Welcome back, join me and my continuing conversation about my thoughts, feelings, and emotions to the world around me.
In this episode, I talk about being Author of the Month, being published, and sending out my annual wish for my daughter, hoping she will one day return to my heart. And, as always, I throw in a quote and a poem for good measure.
Enjoy!!
Email: earth2ash@gmail.com
the day I accept
that your heart forgot my love
is the day mine stops
it is raining now
it has never really stopped
like tears from that day
this is a dream
I can’t be awake in this world
because you are not in it
I’ve searched everywhere but you’re gone
today though, the dream changes
I get to release a jar of hope
to make your voice the loudest
make your face come back to me oh so vividly
like the first day we met
that happy May
lately, this dream gets so close to a nightmare
because it has started to fade everything
and my jar of hope is almost empty
not enough to awaken me
to see you in reality smothers me
I gasp toward that life
choking to reach the other side
someone, please shake me
tell me it’s over
give me back my biggest loss
hear my may-day
I called for you last night
it wasn’t for any of those other reasons we have
this time it was to tell you I was hurting
hurting still… only differently
differently, that poetry won’t mend
differently, that thoughts of you won’t pacify
differently, that distraction from you won’t make me forget
no, this time so different that even a superhero’s cape couldn’t save me
as I sit on the other side of a mountain of hope
I always thought you would answer my cry when it felt real to you
to whatever real means to you
I have done nothing over these years but climb that hope
over and over
thinking one day I would resurrect that real and make it come alive again
to finally know that you feel something for me
maybe that’s all my own dreams
and we know dreams are not real
one day dust will sweep over my body where it lay
marked for the rest of the world
with a sentence that I still continue to call out your name
from beneath my mountain of hope
that fell and crumbled the same day as I did
…your father
I run toward nothing
I have nowhere to go but I’m running
away from the person you think I am
away from the shadow you say I cast
my heart getting weaker the further I go
there is no voice calling my name
no soul missing mine
my blood is useless
it means nothing to anyone anymore
soon I will be far away
nothing will bring me back
life will have stretched the whole distance
from where I was to where you left me
a lifetime too late
I mentioned my daughter today as I always do in conversation. Oddly enough, to someone the same age as her. The response, “If she is anything like you, Ash, I’m sure she is just as awesome.” My heart sank. Why does the rest of the world see what she cannot? Why do I try to convince myself that what they say is not true because it is not told to me by her? Why do I feel broken and all she did was just sweep away the pieces? Questions I ask all the time because I hurt all the time. Something must be wrong with me.
But then someone comes along and suddenly, my reflection in the mirror changes. The questions disappear as I find another piece of me that was thrown away. Returned by a friendly face reminding me how my big my heart actually is.
Earth To Ash 