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It took a long time for me to consider myself a writer. I still struggle with saying it. I started writing at a young age to work through feelings I didn’t dare tell anyone. I learned that once you start writing, it becomes a part of you. It’s something you always go back to whenever you are overwhelmed with certain emotions. People don’t always listen to your words, but the paper always listens to the pen.

you showed me the beauty of summer.

you showed me the beauty of summer.

there are people who seem made to brighten up the bad days, those with soft hearts who have a way of turning storms into a rain that calms the ache i am a snowfall soul made for winter, but you are the sunset in spring making me feel safe in your warmth ashley...

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Reason Within

Reason Within

the face in the mirror wavers, unable to hold your gaze while you catalog every flaw and search for minute imperfections (I told you there are none to find) you see the shadows when light is all that pours from your veins, all the reasons you matter safely stored in a...

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Sparks

Sparks

  I am tangled up in your shock and awe, the way you flicker and linger in my veins, the luscious darkness lit up by the surge of lightning in your eyes and the answering storm in mine -ashley jane

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A Drowning Burn

A Drowning Burn

  I called your touch heaven, loved the way it felt as it shot through my veins. You were a scorch-light, burn bright type of blaze — the type of fire that steals your breath and leaves you drowning in the flames (I’ll never look at fire the...

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