everydaygay:

Please join me on my NEW YouTube channel! All new content will be posted here :]

Ashley’s Wylde Life

everydaygay:

THE LAST VIDEO I WILL EVER UPLOAD | Ashley Wylde

No, Not That

ashleywyldepoetry:

Write
Write a poem
Write me a poem
Ten lines
Write ten lines that rhyme
No, not that
That’s not good enough
Write a better line
Dig deeper
Make yourself take more time
Read slowly
Don’t leave any mistakes inside
Write me a poem
Write me
a beautiful lie

There’s a tightrope
I see man, he’s on a tightrope
Newspaper
Front
Full page
Your face is a newspaper
She’s staring
Maybe she knows who you are
Who are you
Does she know?
Maybe you should ask her?

I knew that you wrote poems
but
I didn’t know that you wrote poems
like
THAT
It’s a tightrope
It’s a balancing act
That’s not a good line
Erase that
Take that back

I’m not a painter
I’m not a stargazer,
not a believer,
not an enemy
not a friend
I’m just a pencil
I’m just a translator
I’m just an ever scribbling mess of fraying ends

Give me solace
Give me another twenty lines
Write me a poem
Please
Write me a poem
Please
Make your existence
worth
my
time

April 14th, 2014
14/30 NaPoWriMo

Salesman

ashleywyldepoetry:

All these places I’ve been forgotten, I am
Lost
Buried, under the weight of all my deeds
Away from here I am light, I pretend, I am free
'Til I come home again, am
Reminded of who I’ve been
Over and under I weave
Singing, dragging on, singing deadly, singing to the
Sea

April 13th, 2014
13/30 NaPoWriMo

Blue

ashleywyldepoetry:

Between the walls of most hearts there is affection: love and the need to be loved. Hers can be found between her vertebrae. Between her toes and behind her ears and between the skin on her palms and the weight they carry through the day. She is love, and though frequently tormented by it, longs to be loved. She doesn’t need much, but she needs a forever. Every movement is that of folded paper cranes and she is delicate and gentle and bold, and she is a stark contradiction to the storybook princess but looks for her happily ever after all the same. She is fighting and on fire and only when you juxtapose her flames with the ever soft calming of water can you imagine what it is to see rain.

April 12th, 2014
12/30 NaPoWriMo

I Walk Slow

ashleywyldepoetry:

When things are the very best I walk slow
I walk slow
slow
slow
slow
I hardly notice where I am and it takes me ten minutes to get from twelve noon to 8:00 am
I skipped an egg this morning
I made the egg
but I skipped the eating it part
because I was so eager
to just get out in the world
and start my day
and that’s the trouble:

I’m doing well.
I’m doing so, so well
and I find
that gives me a whole lot less
to say

April 11th, 2014
11/30 NaPoWriMo

April 1992

ashleywyldepoetry:

I remember the day I first asked
"when did you marry my father?"
and I knew the answer
"1991"
but not exactly..
"but when"
and I held my breath
because somehow I knew
"December"
and I felt something inside of me crumble
"I was born in April"
"I know it takes nine months"

Mistakes are relative
by the general definition
most babies
are mistakes
most babies
are unplanned
and that part didn’t bother me so much
"Am I why? Am I the reason?"
"In a way, yes. You are one of the reasons."

I was not young.
Not times tables, lunchbox young
I was popularity, bullying
advanced placement, GPA
young
Not young enough to not
wonder how I could have ever
overlooked it
He was clean-cut, charming
picket-fence-promises
and I was potential
begging for a nest
and you might’ve gotten out
but I was on the way
and you stayed
and I came
and
nothing
was
ever
the
same

April 10th, 2014
10/30 NaPoWriMo

Heartache vs. Heart Attack

ashleywyldepoetry:

Certified.
I am a certified lifeguard.
I am certified to save lives.
I know that when there are no signs of life,
you begin with 30 chest compressions,
an inch and a half deep,
break the ribs beneath your hands,
force the heart to pump blood.
I know that you follow with two breaths,
rescue breaths they’re called,
you force the lungs to breathe.
I know that when an
Automatic External Defibrillator
arrives,
ventricle fibrillation
is often treatable
and
most other things
are not
and I know
in the moment
how to
save
you
if
I
can.

But it’s so rare;
It’s so rare that anyone would need me to.

I wish that instead of guarding lives,
I could be certified
to guard
livelihoods.
Because they are so often in need of protection.
I wish I knew
how many compliments to pay
how deep
and where
and about what;
which bones to break,
which barriers to break,
which breaks would make you whole.
I wish I knew
which types of pain
were treatable
and which
were
fatal
and when does the device arrive
that helps me find out?
The heart is
so much more dramatic in it’s downfall.
So visible are the signs,
they can be broken into steps
and charted,
and performed with
precision.

And I’d guess that if you ever needed it,
you’d be glad that I am able to save your life
but the heart is just one organ
and there are so many
other ways
to die.

April 7th, 2014
7/30 NaPoWriMo

Definite

ashleywyldepoetry:

Hit the backspace key;
that’s what it feels like for something to end.

Technology is so definite.
Once, my computer stopped working in the middle of my using it, and it didn’t start working again.
I took it to the place you take things like that
and they told me it was the hard drive
they told me,
"it will all be lost."

I thought,
"I will be lost."

I left knowing that when I came back
I’d be less $100, and 100,000 memories
and I cried openly
the way my mother cried
when all those photo albums were thrown out into the rain
because hard drives and prints
pay equally in the eyes of the elements.

For three days I mourned
and when I came back for the shell,
for the rain stained album of my life,
they told me,
"it was not the hard drive,
only the cord,
it will cost you $5
and the loss
of
none
of
yourself.”

I cried openly
the way my mother cries
when she remembers all those
rain soaked albums
laying in the yard,
because some things
are just
so
definite.

April 6th, 2014
6/30 NaPoWriMo

Well,

ashleywyldepoetry:

I would have gone all the way down the long, deep well to rescue you. With bare hands I would have climbed up with you on my back, fingers jammed into the cracks until they were bloody. I would have nursed you back to health in the gentle whipping fields of wheat, and watched your first steps with the pride of a mother who birthed your self worth instead of your body. I would have walked next to you like training wheels until you could stand on your own and then walked next to you until it felt like home.

You called my name from down there with intent to pull me in.
I am sad for you.
So willingly I would have given everything you seek to steal,
along with all my secret ingredients for happiness,
along with all my recipes for love.
What you want from me cannot be stolen.
I thought to help you create it…
It’s easy to reach for what you see in others,
but only weakness comes from stealing light.

April 5th, 2014
5/30 NaPoWriMo