We are strangers, you and I.
Two people only aware
of one another's existence.
Yet I am desperate to tell you
my most awful secrets...
My most shameful
silent sufferings.
Would you like to hear them?
Would you like to help me
carry my burdens?
Author: Ash Ochoa Poetry
You'll figure it out.
Disconnected
Your number is still in my phone,
yet I know I'll never call.
At this point it's simply an area code
and seven digits held between a couple
little dashes.
That's all it is.
A series of symbols secured to a dead line.
Yet I still refuse delete it.
I still cannot let you go.
Switchboard
Purgatory
You are my purgatory,
a perfect medium between
heaven and hell.
I crave your warmth,
yet I fear it just as much.
Palatable
You want my mouth forcibly set to filter my statements into sanitized, secure sentences.
Sentences formed only to satisfy you while they sit bland and awkward on my tongue.
How does such dullness please you?
Is lifelessness really that palatable?
Stars
Bottomless
I have our dad's eyes.
Green and bottomless.
Dazed and desolate.
Hesitant
Everything has come full circle...
Yet it feels as if no weight has been
lifted from my shoulders.
The sighs of relief seem temporary
and I'm sure that they are soon to be
replaced with regret and resentment.
My mind remains hesitant to relax,
my body leery to let go.
Woven
Eventually her string of lies
became hard for even her to follow.
She couldn't remember what she had said,
who she told what, or what was believed between whom.
She had woven a web
without an apparent end.
The truth hidden somewhere
between a single fiber.
Apart
What if all we have left
in common are memories?
What if the only thing
still holding us together
are the days that we felt
we would never be apart?
AO Poetry 
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