Challenge

It's April and it's cold. Quelle Grande Surprise. But, le soleil is shining. Like my franglais? Me neither.

*sigh* I'm slowly getting back into being fit again, and I'm going to try some new eating habits. No anti-Candida diets or anything because that may kill me right now. You'd have to pry the chocolate out of my dead fingers to do it...but I'd be dead so it wouldn't matter.

I digress: comme toujours.

I did P90X (http://www.beachbody.com/product/fitness_programs/p90x.do) religiously for almost two months. I got sick for a week, and had to finish school. That whole lovely process took about a month. I've worked out since then and even did a couple of the P90X workouts. I wanted to just jump back into P90X over May and June, but that ain't happening with summer school coming up. Looks like I'll have to make up a workout routine that's a bit more humane during May. I'll need to get my sleep and working out one-plus hours a day is not feasible. *SIGH*

Oh well. That's ok, right? I should probably be concentrating on restoring my bod anyway. School kicked my ass. Time to kick some ass myself. (can I say "ass" on here? Is "arse" better? Now I've said too many times that it doesn't matter.)

That's another thing... Will I make it back to boxing class? I feel like it's been eons since I've been. Oy. We'll see!

Stay tuned...

(or not... you really don't have to, honest. ^^)

Looking In--speculation

I have braces.

They hurt sometimes,
My back's been hurting, too,
I've been eating badly,
I haven't worked out regularly for the last few weeks,
I jumped off the P90X bandwagon and am finding it hard to jump back on,
I haven't been getting enough sleep,
I still have to clean the chaos that is my room,
I'm dangerously low on cash,
I'm on the outside looking in...

At a life where I have a family,
My sister loves me a lot,
My mom's the strongest woman I know,
I have friends who care,
A shirt on my back,
Pants, too, 'cause pants are good,
comfy shoes,
The ability to run, work out, and dance,
Glasses so I can see,
Contacts for when I want to see less but look different,
Invisalign so my smile will look better someday soon...

I have braces.

Weathered--poem

In the sun I feel your warmth
in the darkness, your absence
I can’t seem to find happiness
in a medium of light

when it rains, my sins trickle far away
when it snows, my memories freeze
and torture
what sanity shivers within
when the wind blows through me
my soul goes with it—over the mountain tops
where we looked down on our highway to
bliss
and freedom to wander through time and back again
through all the landscapes that pull us on

With the changing of Your Season,
my skin shed the warmth
I got all too familiar with the rays from Above
reflected in your eyes

Dress me in your dreams
I’ll wear them with pride and don them for
the heavens

Dress me in your hopes
I’ll make them my armour
for I must now face Tomorrow
without you by my side

Our Song--poem

If there was a song deep in my heart
who would it be for
and what would be the point?
Would it be a tribute for good or anger
or to answer the ever-throbbing question:
why?

I wish I knew the words so I could get them off my skin
out of my mind and blood
hiding beneath the scars.
Even if I could compose
a masterpiece or limerick
you wouldn’t gasp in awe
or surprise
at what’s going on inside me.

I have a notion that’s making me ill
And tastes too bitter and still—
you don’t care at all about mind,
body, spirit—of the one who’s writing
these words.

The joke could fasten easily on my shoulders
For I’m mad, yes and disappointment’s
No stranger.

But the punchline
and mainline from my crux to
these words
is I’m affirming my fixation but
doubting the elation
I ever felt
about who this song was written for.

Revision--poem

They were there along,
but we discovered them together—
I didn’t care much about them
before.
Until one day, I pattered along
not wanting to be with my kind.
You seemed to transpire with an incoming breeze,
traipsing in from the brightening
East.
Your presence struck me,
I froze on the path,
not noticing the X marking my voyage’s
end.
Instead of a simple greeting,
you spread your Wings—
more handsome than any I’d
seen.
I fluttered my own, though meagre in comparison
and you urged me to follow
along.
We left Earth below us,
and took on the
Sky.
The old Fly-scape looked unfamiliar and
new.
Instead of condensed rain,
I saw rainbows through the wisps—
Ever more will I love the
Great Clouds
I used to ignore.

Pseudo-Proclamation, poem

I’ll say it—but I won’t.
I’m scared.

How stupid does that sound?

When you ask me, you’ll hear the ocean—
you’re on hold after all while I slip away

Innuendo: there’s lots
piled up between Us to which we contribute
Mutually
underwraps.

It’s frustrating, I know,
especially when the thought (or theory) slaps my cheek,
forcing my focus on This
sickening possibility—probability?
that our dance is just a Disney
dream.

Some of it is ‘cause only a fool would
believe
in the notion that we’ll just (together) “be”
with no bumps, scratches, scars,
on our egos and sanity
but my body wants to audition
the score anyhow.

I’ve said it but I haven’t.
and I...think the words would wither
before they touched your cognition of
What if?
for a couple of wondering wiles and bods.

I’ve said it. But I won’t.
It scares me, so I’ll Crush instead.
It’s infuriating, but at least
now you know.

Dexterity--poem

can you hear the beast
(it’s breathing, hot upon my neck)—
this mask may meet with each tantalizing
exhale
tempting the
demon
within
I touch up the veneer with my experienced
brush
keeping my guise in check

before It can claw its way from my
skin
I’ll assuage It with the promise of letting It
loose

when the Great One wanes its icy light
illuminating the vermin we’re to
destroy,
penetrating their facades
for I see
myself
reflected in their twisted
destiny

tear off the mask
breathe in
Beast out—
a calculating Monster with flare

cue from the Moon,
it’s time to embrace my
prey
with these Passenger’s arms
of this thrilling
ride
called
Fitting In

Crush-poem

I want to want you,
I want to say something
so you’ll turn your head and come
to me.

I want to ask you
for affection and attention
so we could curl up together
and exhale the night away.

Yet I’m sitting here, seemingly
daydreaming
lost in what if’s with every step
I take, back
towards where we first saw
eye-to-eye, and foresaw
bliss in our first “tell” without the
innuendo’d “show.”

And you’re on my mind tonight
again
it’s a repetitive thing—like how I’ve been
chasing my tale—
a cycle of wonder, wander, want—

Then what?

That’s so feline:
wanting things—
or seeming to and all the while
I’m wanting You

ash to Ash--poem

Let me be in the sun—
I’ll burn for the right reasons
instead of letting this blood
boil
for an unobtainable ghost.

Let me be in the sun—
I’m gluttonous for light
in this dust-cloud
of the delusions in
my waking dreams.

Let me be in the sun—
I’ll thrive or fly to
Oblivion—
at least I’ll be something new, something fresh
and flowering
or a soaring wraith of fire.

Let me be in the sun—
since you won’t let me be in you.
Any scalding I bear
will be gentler, dear,
than how I burned for
You.

:)

Merry Christmas Eve one and all :)!!

<3

The End-poem

I will never leave you

Know that—

When you’re facing the light, or the darkness, or the abyss—whatever describes
the other side
in your tangible dreams

Remember at that fragile moment
when Nature’s too big to fathom
and She drowns you in sensory overload

You’ll feel my hand on your heart,
my voice vibrate on your skin
you’ll see my eyes when you close your own

You’ll know

Your mind will carry the key to our
Immortality

and despite all Her fury,
Nature will revere this bond,
step aside,
and lay the path for us to embark on
together,
forever—

At least that’s what keeps my
heart beating
on this plane of human confusion
when I see the tidal wave threatening its
wrath—

I believe you’re waiting for
me, too

War--poem

I shot the words—
deflect them if you wish
but you can’t deny the point de facto
I hold the Trump to blast this memory to
holy dust

Your lips hold the ammunition with the kryptonite ability
to collapse me onto the Egyptian cotton battlefield
where we waged countless wars before

I can see you’re unsettled, agitated, and ready
my eyes try to penetrate your shield of false affection—
I know I’ve succeeded once you’re on your
back
but the fall is so long, we’d be fighting forever

so take it out on me
get back at me
avenge the violation

I stripped your armour,
threw it out with stale memories
of all the times we sat and bitched with no substance in
between

I’m standing, you’re struggling—it’s the most we’ve done
in relationship-ages

Take it out on me
because I can finally take it
and turn it on you
to teach you what I’m made of—
and not what you want me to be.

Pyramid

I'm trying to find you in other people, other places than from where I see you.

I still don't know why you put us through this.

I miss you.

Self-therapy: "Into the woods"

Sometimes, my mind is my enemy and tormentor. It won't translate my sensations, thoughts, memories, emotions into words that flow like Appleton Jamaican rum. That's my favourite rum: smoother and more potent than any pirate can muster. See? This is silly. I want to write something deep--something complicated and intricate to reflect all the f***ed up things going on in this cranium. I feel things wildly, obsessively, then when I try to transcribe these things to paper (or screen..) it seems pointless or petty. But, not many people read this anyway, so this seems like a decent space to vent--no shrink's couch required.

I'm frustrated with the notion that you can miss what was and more infuriatingly, what could have been. I've been told not to think "what if." It can be dangerous. You can fixate on something that will never be--or will never likely be. Yet, the curiosity still burns and prods at you constantly. I miss what could have been. The longing makes me angry. But I know I'll let go. Ever feel this way? Stuck on something, and just wanting to release? When does that precious moment happen, when desire becomes action? When the weight is off your shoulders finally after trying to hurl it off?

How much can you actually protect yourself? I have a gift for diving into things and making associations with corny things like songs, jokes, tv shows...etc... etc... blah blah blah. It's amazing how things can become tainted so quickly and drastically. Once you practice the art of possessing those songs, jokes, tv shows as yours in the end, you can dissociate things you enjoy with the memory (i.e. person) you don't enjoy quite as much anymore.

This sounds like a bad country song.

I believe a recent diasppointment hit me harder than expected because of everything else going on. You know how life can snowball, taking you down with it and toss you into a firepit mercilessly? Yeah. There have been some fantastic things happening, too, do NOT get me wrong. My life is pretty great. I'm just disappointed in a few things.

That aside, back to this journey through the thicket of my mind.

I don't know why I torture myself. I look for clues, signs in the trail and evidence of what was between an "us"--me and someone else--to understand what went wrong or if it was ever "right" at all. This time, I honestly feel like things shouldn't have ended this way. Then again, if you're a fatalist, then everything happens for a reason, n'est-ce pas? I believe in that for most things. My life is too weird and peculiar to not believe it a lot of the time. Yet, I want to understand why things played out as they did--why certain things in my life just aren't functioning the way I want them to.

My health and my (figurative) heart are below par at the moment. And have been for some time. Things'll get better--they always do. That's one vital lesson I've learned in this messed up thing called la vie. Thank God, right? But someone please educate me as to why things aren't plugging along smoother than they currently are, and why when I finally start to really let my heart get into something, it sublimates into vapour?

Thanks, Universe. I know you'll return the favour some day.

Until then, I've got my girlfriends, writing, chocolate, dancing, and a night out tomorrow night that I'm greatly looking forward to.

Thanks for..."listening." I hope this'll help me move on. Writing usually does. Onto other things for the day...

Sensory--poem

I heard your voice through the crowd
I could have sworn it was you, and tried matching it to the figure
whose back infuriatingly wouldn’t turn to reveal
your smile beaming at me

I saw you from a distance—and felt the fluttering nervosa
forcing my heart to beat faster, to ascend to my throat
my breath ceased and quickened all the while—
you’re the alchemist of chaos mixed with sweet serenity

I tasted you on my lips, licking them once I felt the melting
snowflakes floating tantalizingly from the heavens
descending to a plane
where weaker creatures roam

I breathed you in while we swam through bed-sheets
counting the threads to stall and keep you there
falling prisoner to you
with every time I inhaled your spell

I felt you tonight,
last night and likely every night—
I can’t tell when you began and I ended
except when your hands pulled away from my skin

I heard you—though it was only the wind
I saw you—though it was your shadow
I tasted you—though it was saccharine love
I breathed you in—though it was the perfume of Winter’s arrival
I felt you all over me—though it was my cruel neurons’ trickery

I knew you, and not at all,
for you left before you came,
shut me away before embracing me
all with the finality of a few broken words

And despite this assault on my weakened links to reality,
my heart’s still beating fast,

My heart’s beating still.

Dear Life,

Get with the program.

Cut me a break, please?

Thanks,

Ashley.

Ghost-poem

I thought you left me
I thought I could move on
I thought the moon could shine
even on the darkest of nights—
even when the sun never seemed to make an appearance

I thought you left
then I felt your hand on my neck,
squeezing the air from my lungs
squeezing the life from my soul into a bottle
of regret
that you tossed out to sea
for me to find

I thought you left—
you and your poison,
you with your death
and numbing embrace

I thought you left,
until I glanced into a mirror, and
saw you staring back at me—
from these eyes that shine
no more

Afraid-poem

I’m afraid to cry
(someone might see)
I’m afraid to laugh
(someone might hear)
I’m afraid to scream
(someone might run)
I’m afraid to fear
(someone might console)
I’m afraid to be
(someone might notice me
in all of my selfish glory
in doing this thing called
living)

Demolition

Demolition

I can’t feel through this darkness anymore
I’m working through a dream with no light
in a tunnel-envisioned life
full of wondering what will be
and every other cliché that could plague
my imagination

you’re not my friend—and I do not wish
that the chains binding you to me are a friendship-shade of grey
I want you in my veins—to paint my vision red with the blood
that should pound through the shackles binding me to you

if you kissed me
I’d submit
if I kissed you
you’d throw away the key

at least I hope you would

but all these “if’s” don’t light the way
they give false hope of foresight
in a life poisoned with what was

play me the music of your heart
the beating plays me to a reverie,
guiding me through the abyss of now
with the echo of your presence
making my hair stand up

Do you feel like making a fire—
so I at least can see your calculations?
is my libido flammable to you—
have you been stealing the oxygen from my life
to douse me, forcing me
in this darkness of your indifference and visible absence?

the sun won’t shine again unless
I grow some wings and fly northward—
believe enough in the legendary strength
in this composure of mine
to shatter the ceiling you constructed with your
stone and cement blending all your tales
into a how-to manual on burying
hope

you lied to me with a key, a kiss
an embrace at 2 am that felt like business
at 5
no key means no lock means no blood
to share in the sacrament of voluntary
two-way
enslavement

what a show, what a dream

here’s the moment—
I stole from your agenda
to take a chance and begin my ascent,
phoenix my way out of your ashen world
and reunite with—

there it is, the answer to the question of what the hell
were we doing, losing you and I in the
telescope of what could be
while we couldn’t agree—

the answer’s in the way it ended,
for you know what they say about tunnels

Release--poem

I remember diving into you
the comfort of your darkness, your frozen embrace
your endless abyss
where I got lost
in a coma where time and lucidity snuck away

I wasn’t happy, but hands of tragedy hadn’t completed the
task that your smothering took on to bring me to
this

once reason parted my lips to allow
your draught to assault my tongue
I tasted my addiction

My heart pounded again,
panic flailed my limbs to search for the surface
to cut the mass of tangible obsession
and win back my breath

I tasted your poison

I tasted your power,
that I made more potent with every single
dream, nightmare, thought, memory, word, glance, heartbeat, breath—

I remember diving into you
and feeling comfort in the cold
for you’d stock me like this for always
and keep me inside ‘til death do us part—
though, as the diver, I guess I’m the swan

I remember diving into you
out of choice, and all the while knowing
a masochist would blush from the emotional
whirlpool you preserve me in

I remember diving into you

I remember drowning

until I remembered it’s not safe to dive
when you can’t see the bottom in an unreliable ocean
so I built a bridge, crossed over

I remember looking back at you