I think about writing more than I write, but call myself a writer as opposed to a thinker.
i love the way you say my name when you say goodbye in the mornings but i hate the way it sounds when it's mentioned as a warning.
By Ashley Lima4 days ago in Poets
you could be so much more if you would just stand to be uncomfortable for more than a second. instead you clock in and out of a job that you hate
i wish you'd told me you believed in me more, and i wish you'd been a little nicer. i know you love me because now i understand
tapered wax aflame drips down the candlestick's side onto the next page
By Ashley Lima19 days ago in Poets
fresh snowfall drifts down. muffled footsteps of creatures breathe life through the cold.
a taste of the clouds; soft in the palm of your hand. misty memories.
the whip-poor-will song reverberating forest, a moment of peace
a warm april day birds singing in the sunshine a kiss from the breeze
I beg you be persuaded that no one would be more zealous than myself to establish effectual barriers against the horrors of spiritual tyranny, and every species of religious persecution. - George Washington
By Ashley Limaabout a month ago in Humans
Crisp leaves crackle underfoot, breaking the silence of dawn. Another day slipping past the hunter's wrath, and another battle to earn the prize.
By Ashley Lima5 months ago in Poets
Leaving water in a Mason jar set upon the windowsill during your full glow. Charging crystals in the night, absorbing power from your light,
To live forever; The ultimate goal. A fruitless venture framed by an ego only a writer knows. Recognition tastes hollow
