Ashen Pages

Unfiltered stories, opinions, and poems

  • Sinking Swim

    The smoke levitating from the stucco walls

    I’ve been here before, when the fire broke

    Drenched amber fluids seeping by the woods

    Castrated your mind, that one swoosh of air

    The smoke kept climbing up the walls

    In rose-colored tears : a malingering flimsy

    My eyes cannot bear to me what you’ve done

    To the me that came after, the ending

    Crescendoing tremors baked inside my chest

    I’d wish so terribly you’d understood

    When the firemen came, in golden yellows

    We should’ve enjoyed such helpful fellows

    They yearned the way you yearned and hoped

    All the malice in the world would soak up

    Watered down, like a fish in and out of water

    The fire came and went, flames up the walls

    I’d wanted so badly, the desire that never left me

    The fire never stopped burning

    But they washed her suits and gloved hands

    The departure of our saviors, a grace

    We can no longer afford.

    The burnt flesh of life; the stuccoed finally

    Fall apart. Red smeared on every inch inside me.

  • Charred Rouge

    I’ve been sitting with hands in my lap

    The air is trapped inside the tinted windows

    Scenery of blankness and smoke, a lined eye

    To think I’d almost died

    In your arms it cannot be; your pain is torturous,

    Gluttonous and grim.

    I’ve been sitting now, patiently

    Can you speak of truth?

    A faulted step, a trusted steed, some angered

    Episode of homicidal rage.

    Your rouge filled cheeks are charred and full

    The tears of a maiden with no real home.

    In your mind, it cannot be

    You strike and wince: A malice heart

    Filled with grandiose travails.

    The words that flail across your lips,

    I could not remind myself to stay.

    I’ve much desired less, the hand that breaks

    through softened glass, I’ve become steel.

    Your blows are wretched ones,

    I thought I’d never see the wrong, the ill

    The blend of a wilted couch

    Your hands charred and mangled, as if

    The bloodied boat sank by Scylla

    I cannot be here to sew up the seams

    Again, again, again.

    Your eyes are sunken of moistened woes

    And a swollen, warm cheek.

    My sweet, loving toppled by the contrast

    of your tragic life,

    I must remember this is by your design

    That I may only greet demise.

  • Veil Sky

    The closeted slate, an undoing of minds

    A treasuring pillar mantles wrapped in silk

    Breaths emptied along the endless corridors,

    Mirrored stalks and legs, elongated in step

    Enamored streaks of blonde and white

    Of a deep well, lay weeping sheep : relentless horror

    Enthralled in blood against the lighted ceiling

    Pictures the way, I am delighted to seize this

    I can see, the wooden planks quaking underneath

    Searing sun, of Earth, Atlas weeps too

    I can bury myself deep in strife

    Of a low well, in sweeping rage

    Boughs stretch along the vera

    I can sense, as it lays unfinished

    Masqueraded smiles, the moon

    Relishing in pure contempt

    That slate, benign and stiff,

    Is soaked in gold, pristine silver locks,

    They are tightly whipped and knitted

    As blue and warmly stitched as the

    Sleepless, cloudless sky