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Ash Cas Poem
Things are a mess, not because they had to be but because familiarity outranks togetherness. Corner wall has cobwebs, the bed not made in months. Curtains taped over trapping any light out of the room. The shower handles rusted. The fans on high causing the peeling wallpaper to tear more. You can't see the floor and the light switch doesn't work anymore. Although it's most comforting this way. Any mirror has been shattered and the dripping of the sink runs red from the stained above shattered mirror. The smell of pine and despair flows through the air of this non-ventilated room. I take pictures down of the people I'm just a memory to now. The time is always 12 after 3:16. That time significance holds deeply only to the understanding of grief. My hands bandaged up, my eyes swollen, my knees weak. The glass bottles half empty from my tears of yesterday. I decided its time, as I walk across the dark room, accidentally knocking over one of the halfway filled tear stained bottle. To my shock a sudden River flowed. Watching as if I'm no longer in the room, washing away were the curtains, a light beaming through and I could do nothing but be still. Almost like something decided this for me. The water washing away the rust, clearing the cobwebs. I can see the floor now, the wind knocked the window open causing air to make its way through.
Just outside the window I see an array of colors, a rainbow in December? The sound of my phone buzzing from the people hanging on my wall. How long have I not been breathing? Stuck in the state of Sorrow so strong I made everything around feel the exact same. Even the mirror stitched together at the seams. My eyes no longer swollen, faint scars on my hands, my knees completely give out as I fall down on them. The smell of fresh cut grass and wood flowed through the window. It's all happening against my will and to my utter shock. As the last of the water flowed through the deepness of my heart. I hear a defined ding, it can't possibly be right? Nevertheless i walk up and dust the clock off, time reads 1 after 3:17. A lack of understanding of what just occurred a thought lingered. This is the work of God. For how else can the crippling paralysis of my pain, become put in such a movement of my own tears dumped onto the broken canvas that is my heart, completely be washed and made new? where I am not stuck and all is healed In this moment? The room shows light and a sense of freshness, something almost pure. The ones have filled tear bottles are now full, bed made in a sense of peace in that moment God healed me. The lack of a full heart to see him before was just that, lacking. Lacking a heart without God's love in it. Things were a mess, not to say that they won't be again, but now knowing God outranks any Earthly pain.
Copyright © Ash Cas | Year Posted 2024
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Ash Cas Poem
I look around the mirrored house trying to find myself, with each daggered corner of glass and sun reflection bouncing off. I slide my fingers across the placement of my face , who is that? I continue to walk through with each step feeling heavier than the last. I'm angry for reasons I don't understand. I cover myself with my sweater and take off my shoes, the glass is cold under my feet, as I look in the reflection of the mirrored hall there's a familiarity but I still don't know who she is. The mirror is stained, possibly from my tears. I've been in here for days now. I'm not quite able to remember why I walked in and not strong enough to walk out. I remembered the daggered corner edges of the mirror house intrigued me. There's something about a piece that's not smooth but sharp, some proceed with caution but I'll walk right through that hallway. As I stare at my reflection , the girl stirring back as white as paper, except for the red on her arm. It would seem the daggered corner got her or she got herself? I continue to make my way through pulling down my sleeves but the red still drips out. Do I even want to know who I am? Can a reflection really tell me who that is? I lose a sense of reality and sit down in the corner. Things don't feel real and it's very cold. I put my hands in my sweater and feel a rock I had from what seems like years ago. Looking at it sphere shape and feeling it smooth texture, there's something almost calm about the Rock. I decided to get up and go to the bathroom I splash some water on my face, as I look up I see a tear stained mirror, what was sudden's Serenity is now pure rage. I smashed the rock as hard as I can. There's cracks split all over the mirror. The rock is red, my feet now warm from the carpet. My sleeves are rolled up, my once cut arm now shows a scar, I'm no longer in the mirror house and neither can I recall how long I was stuck there. As I look at the crack split mirror I see myself clear.
Copyright © Ash Cas | Year Posted 2024
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Details |
Ash Cas Poem
God doesn't take my hand because he's never let go. God Walks With Me more than I with him. God talks to me more than I listen. For the amount I hate myself it's twiceend of how much he loves me. God lets me wonder knowing I'm too afraid to know. God wipes my tears and moves them into the river of his Living Waters. Gods the twinkling star in the sky, that Shimmer in those beautiful boys eyes. Gods the tears runs down my face, God's the Echo of your laugh reaching deaf ears. God doesn't replace her heart with lust as that man once did. God is not that line I just took, but the serenity I felt right after. God is a constant state of loving peace your heart needs. We're in search of something that God provides all along yet in wrong God's back is not turned to us. That shadow casting over need not ever replaced by the Sun. In darkness we cannot see, therefore easily so we choose not to, even as God States the best has yet to come. For All the wrong, for all the darkness the devil leads to be believed without choice but on pure emotion. God gives us a choice to trust him, without manipulation but instead love, everything we see in God's light is pure. Unfortunately theres pain felt so intensely rain is shown shining down through the sun. Anger spread like wildfire , Lust in every doorframe, greed as intense as nail on a chalkboard, and a motive to hurt others Rises in desire. The spewed Venom from tongues, directed to a person whoes minds been broke by evil. If in that moment love instead of hate. God was not centered in thy front heart rather instead buried in the back of thy rib cage.The choice of slow to anger or quick to love. Can one just be enough? Jesus holds him close and wipes a teardrops so loud heaven heard it dropped through the holes of his scarred hands. The pain the world once gave his son now spread through his father's beautiful creation . God doesn't steer wrong but alas always quick to grab the wheel. God's dedication remains. Neither a speck of existence God knew where I will be on my last breath. Questioning God on his most greatest creation, having faith until you decide otherwise. transcending through worlds. Beginning and end. Image made, the placement of Gods love, such grave decisions. In death hour gods personal hand-painted canvas of each soul bursting in rainbows will be sent back to the Creator. As in God's image becomes was his image in this life. God's transcending. God didn't take my hand because he's never let go.
Copyright © Ash Cas | Year Posted 2024
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