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ashlee workman

Somewhere between writing and drinking ashlee workman has aged to a twenty-four year old woman who believes in Faeries and dreams of space. Originally born in Kentucky, a southern lady she is not,working like other americans in a semi-professional desk job. arworkman7@hotmail.com



 Sex is like liquor

A constant craving

What is this saying?

About my tendencies

My codependencies

My undaunted urges

He tasted like hope

I washed him down with fear

The motives are unclear

Control is a state of mind

I've got that down pat

It's what I'm controlling I seem to forget

I've lost my inhibitions

I've learned

They weren't even there in the first place

Wash it down with a shot of him

And a lime

Grab on

Life isn't dwindling

It's flying by



She hears nothing

Not even his breath

And if she could

It would be like his words

A kick in the ass

His words are like flight

With a deadly crash

She wants the tide

To cover her up and wash away her mistakes

But the tide

It never comes

And here she is with dirty feet

And a bloody mouth

A sad filthy girl on display

Here she comes

Still crawling

His shiny black boot will block the sun

She's an intruder

Stealing her own strength

Sewing weakness in its place

His faucet never shuts off

Causing her to drift

The waters are cold

Black hollowness

Her fingers

They slip

Her hopes

They diminish

Where has she gone?

The lights pound at the cold depth of water

In search

They go home empty

She washes up on his shore in pain

Looking like Lilith

With a bloody mouth

She ate the child inside

The girl with sprite

She drips from his mouth

Slowly running down his body

Becoming every crack and blemish

She has done wrong again

Slowly she walks away

Never wishing for footsteps to follow

Because only dreams have feet

Their bad memories cling to her like wet jeans

So she changes out of those clothes

Clothes of pain

And walks alone

Among gray clouds and sick air

Black waters grab at her feet

She struggles to stay away

Walking long miles upon cold sand

She crawls out of his chest

Rising before the sun

She leaves

To find a better place



Let Me

I'm Confused


Over used

I believe

In the deep

Of people meeting

Things beginning

And eventually


And if spirit is portrayed through demeanor

Let mine shine

Cobalt Blue


And if you are a pool

Let me swim

Let me come in

Into the ripples

Of thought

Or what not

I wanna breath in the smoke

That emulates your smoldering quietness

The one that sees

The flaws

Every last space

I'll fit in like melted flesh


Like a serpent

Glide across my body

In my mind

I wanna be the leg


I wanna be the vase

On others



But still in tact







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