It took a long time for me to consider myself a writer. I still struggle with saying it. I started writing at a young age to work through feelings I didn’t dare tell anyone. I learned that once you start writing, it becomes a part of you. It’s something you always go back to whenever you are overwhelmed with certain emotions. People don’t always listen to your words, but the paper always listens to the pen.
she brings life to the cold.
winter is coming she slips from the mist, the queen of dark things spilling from a beautifully painted sky she creates art from madness and faith, a masterpiece delicately drawn with ice
we are a mess of emotions.
we are all scars and open wounds filled with all the lives we live and all the deaths we meet we are comprised of a million types of silence only broken by the rapid beating of softly shattered hearts we sink like stones in their sea of sound we swing on a pendulum...
this place is called safe and warm.
daylight paints the skyline in shades of yellow and tangerine, tempting flames to decorate the blanket of snowflakes and ice and i seek shelter from the storm in the arms of someone who feels just like home -ashley jane
Book Review – Serendipity by Samantha Modica
Serendipity is book of poetry by Samantha Modica that captures love and heartbreak in vivid detail. Her use of allusion and metaphor allows her stories to reach out to the reader. Her poems read almost like a novel, mini snapshots of a larger story that lingers in...
let me remind you.
my heart is made for warming my words are meant for screaming my mind is an autumn sun, and my soul is a winter moon you said i am a spell waiting to be conjured you move within my madness, fingers lingering between my meanings i ask you to pick your poison, and you...
thoughts that tantalize the tongue.
flavors float through memories, just a taste to remind me of the moment when we collided, cranberry and lime staining my tastebuds with visions of you -ashley jane
i am journal of lost secrets buried too deep for you to reach.
some people prefer to stay on land. never searching below the superficial surface. they look just long enough to find their own reflection, to turn your story into theirs, to make themselves the focus. now me, i want conversations that can only be found in the depths....
Book Review – Black Hearts, Bullet Wounds and Barrooms by Stein and Roberts
Black Hearts, Bullet Wounds and Barrooms by Ruby Stein and Angeline Roberts I can't tell you how happy I was to finally sit down and read this book. Black Hearts, Bullet Wounds and Barrooms is volume one of an anthology written by two ladies whose melancholy matches...
i am swallowed up by the silence.
i dreamed that these red seas were made of pretty poppy petals, that i was sinking into warm memories instead of drowning in the starving quiet your absence left behind -ashley jane
silly, stupid hearts.
hearts can be such pretty fools, always courting madness and trying to make a home in a b a n d o n e d spaces filled with unloved bones -ashley jane