by
Ash Ochoa Poetry
Categories: My PicturesTags: Black and white, History, Photography, Switchboard, Technology
1 Comment
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?
Suffocating
We breathe the same air,
yet I am the one suffocating.
How is it that you can fill
your lungs with such ease
while mine burn and bellow
in agony?
Drops
AO Poetry 
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