Undercover Romantic

I’m an undercover romantic,

A safe keeper of memories,

It’s always the little things,

The little things that get the best of me.

I’ll never forget the night of the fire,

The true beginning of everything,

You simply opened your mouth,

And we talked well into the morning.

Every part of me was warming,

And every part of me felt home,

I distinctly remember wondering,

Where that comfort was coming from.

I watched you form your thoughts,

As the color of fire licked your lips,

You gave me your honesty,

And in return earned my respect.

There was something in your words,

That I just found so attractive,

It’s a rare day you find the truth,

Offered in the same way you give it.

A meeting of such like minds,

An offer of experience,

You carried yourself so humbly,

I thought you were fucking brilliant.

I didn’t want that night to end,

I would’ve stayed till the sky turned red,

But when I finally hugged you goodbye,

I somehow knew I’d remember it.

I woke up that next morning,

With your words echoing in my head,

I couldn’t shake the sound of your voice,

And this thing right behind it.

This strange sense of belonging but,

You were the last thing I was looking for,

And the timing of it couldn’t be worse,

I tried to tell myself it was nothing

but there was something I couldn’t ignore.

Just a feeling, a hint of longing,

As I found myself craving your presence,

And even when the days got busy,

I still made time for our conversations.

I fell in love with your mind first,

How you weaved your words together,

And I don’t think I had laughed that hard,

In what felt like a thousand forevers.

You asked me to get together,

And I was all about it,

We met at a park in the middle of summer,

And I knew that this was something special.

The way you smiled stopped me dead in my tracks,

And baking in that sun I was still so relaxed,

We went to get milkshakes because I didn’t want it to end,

And when we finally went home,

Your smile stayed in my head.

You’ve smiled at me so many times since,

And it still feels as warm as the first time I saw it.

I’ll never be more grateful for offered experience,

Because out of a talk came a forever I believe in.

by Ashley King

© All Rights Reserved 2017

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Every Moment

I stand above this little girl, so peaceful and innocent, with skin that glows in a way that says nothing’s ever touched it. I watch her breathe in and out, hear the noises she makes in her sleep, and I think of a time when she was nothing but a dream. She was never supposed to exist, at least not without lots of medication, months of tracking schedules, years and years of waiting. Yet here she is, in the flesh, so full of love and happiness. She’s my little miracle, life’s greatest gift.

I’ll never forget the day that little plus sign turned blue, the disbelief in my veins, the look of shock on my face. I’ll never forget the first time I heard her heart beat, fast like a hummingbird, strong like a hoofbeat. I’ll never forget the night I first felt her kick, so subtle I almost missed it, but so monumental. I was so in tune with every little change. I embraced every moment, loved every single day. Even now, as I watch her dream in her sleep, I still miss when we were one, her growing in my belly.

But not a thing in this world, matches the love and peace I feel, when I watch my baby sleep like the world is standing still. I catalogue every second, snapshots in my head. I’ll memorize every moment, from her birth until my death. I don’t want to forget a thing, any step on this journey. Because the best thing I’ve been, is this little girl’s mommy.

by Ashley King

© All Rights Reserved 2017

Speechless

He says he loves it when I write and he asks me to write for him. And really, he’s my favorite material… and there’s no shortage of inspiration. Everything about him is inspiring. He’s the real fucking deal. Here’s the problem: I’ve mistaken empty hands for wanting hearts before. I’ve mistaken infatuation for love, used words for others that I should’ve saved up. Because every line I ever wrote about anyone else now feels like a lie. To the core of my being I want to rip it up, erase it from existence so that I can use the beauty of each phrase, the perfection of every line, the words that I wasted on others, to write about him, and this time. I want to say a million things but some of them have been said before and the very fact that they have left my lips, my fingertips, somehow makes them not good enough for him…. because he’s something new… something different… something actual and tangible and real, totally authentic.

Words never fail me. But when I fell for him I spent so many nights looking in his eyes with a million things I wanted to say to him… and I said none of them. I expressed the smallest pieces of what I was feeling. Because my words didn’t seem good enough to explain this volcano of flames that was erupting in my chest. They simply, just did not fucking cut it. I’ve thought I loved before; and once or twice I have. So I have said many things to a person that I thought was my forever at the time. And to use those same words now, with someone so special, feels nothing short of wrong. They just aren’t good enough. So I’m a writer with no words like a bird without a song…

So how? How do I explain the way that the warmth of his hand on my shoulder radiates through my body straight to my soul and makes me feel like I’ve just come home? How do I explain the amazement I feel when I watch him think his way through something and come to the exact same conclusion that I have, that I swore no one else could see? How do I put into words, that after years of being bad at love, at fucking it up and finding it in all the wrong places, that I know I’ve finally got it right this time? Have you ever done that? Tried for something, given it a chance, time and time again all to discover that what you’d found is just another fuck up, another bad choice, another tragic ending? I have. And because of this past, all the words I have just don’t measure up in the face of this man. So I stare into the eyes of this person that I love to pieces and I know for the first time… that I’m completely speechless.

by Ashley King

© All Rights Reserved 2017

July Eighth

He makes me laugh. He makes me feel loved. He makes me think not every man's hands were made to be guns. He makes me think. He challenges me. He asks me how my day was. Regularly.

He thinks I am beautiful. He sees me as whole. My past is just a past, something that's old. He doesn't use it to label me, color me damaged. He sees a rainbow, not a woman made of bandages.

He loves me the way I thought only I was built to love. Not in that way that makes me think I'll never be enough. It is equal. It is good. It. Is. So. Much.

He speaks my language. He's never bigger than me. Smarter than me. "Be quiet so I can ignore you loudly". He wants to hear me. And that's why he chose me. And I accepted. Because I know a good man…when I see one closely.

by Ashley King
© All Rights Reserved 2017

Struggle

Some days I struggle.

I carry this sense of impending doom around in my pocket like loose change or leftover lint. I feel a little left of center, a little off balance. Maybe I’m crooked. Maybe I’m damaged. Maybe there’s too many things that I’ve left unspoken, and the weight’s got me bent… but still unbroken.

So now some days I breathe anxiety for oxygen and use anger for strength.
Cause I can only fight as hard as I hate.
And sometimes that fire lightens the weight…
But sometimes it burns me instead.

I never fear the shoe dropping, I fucking expect it and although the years have caused that to lessen, I’ve still learned well how to hold my breath in. I’m a little cautious or completely reckless, balance has never been what I’m best at.

I’ve carried this guilt my entire life, accepting blame for shit that’s not mine.
I was raised to feel responsible, for everything; and it didn’t go away when I got old enough to see. See how broken that thinking is, and how wrong my mom was in the things she did. I was born pure and molded into an apology. Never taught to stand up or fight what people blamed on me. I spent my first 13 years mostly saying “Sorry”.

But evolution is inevitable and eventually the change came. I got a new mom, learned what I didn’t need to say. I stopped accepting blame and slowly dropped the weight. But some things in life, never truly go away.

So some days I wake up, with a belly full of lead, from all of the times that I bit another bullet. And on any given day my spine made of steel can curve into a question mark because not everything is healed. But most of the time, I stand up for myself, I don’t accept blame and take care of myself. I don’t make choices out of guilt, I don’t back down from what I’ve built. I’m accountable for my actions, and nothing fucking else.

by Ashley King
© All Rights Reserved 2017

Substandard Love

I'll love you when it's easy,
I'll kiss you when you're sweet,
I'm careless and convenient,
I'll support you when it suits me.

I'll kick you while you're down,
I'll never lift you up,
I'm fucking fantastic,
And you're never enough.

I'm all the ways you settle,
And nothing that you wished for,
But now my hooks are in you,
And I've pinned you to the floor.

Are you feeling trapped?
Baby that's my speciality.
I'll knock you down, wear you out,
Suffocate you, breathlessly.

Don't you know? I'm everything,
And you are just my hostage.
You used to have self respect?
Well baby, you just lost it.

Come taste my love,
It's nothing but substandard.
You swam onto my island,
Now you're fucking stranded.

You're welcome.

by Ashley King
© All Rights Reserved 2017

Dedicated to all the egotistical, narcissistic, one foot out the door, "I'm better than you", demeaning, condescending, douchebags of the world. We see you. And you suck 🙂

Possible Again

I sat back today and watched him play with his kids, just wild and free, so full of love and life. It was like one of those perfect pictures that bullshit romance novels paint: Dad playing with the older kids in the yard, dogs running around enjoying the freedom, mom a few paces away holding the baby, feeling blessed, laughing wholeheartedly at the people she loves playing without a care in the world. It was perfect. And foreign.

It reminded me of a time when I still believed in white picket fences and happy endings. When families weren’t the people you were trying to become the exact opposite of. He reminds me of when I still believed in true love. When “forever” meant forever and wasn’t just a false promise used as a bandaid over another bullet hole. He makes me feel special again, like maybe people really can love each other for all that they are. He makes me think that fall evenings spent sitting on the front porch watching the kids play in the yard are possible. Like nights spent cuddled up on the couch actually talking to each other, not just existing in the same room, are real.

I’ve always had a habit of ignoring the warning signs. I’m not one of those women who can’t see them, I can always see them. But I would convince myself that I could work around them; when in my heart of hearts, I always knew when and how a relationship would fail.

I don’t have that here.

Everything is still so new and yet, I can’t see anyone else after him. I feel like I’ve finally come home after years of living in some alternate reality nightmare and all the sudden the world is an endless sea of possibility and happiness again. Everything makes sense again. It’s like I finally woke up and everything I once dreamed was possible actually is. Ask anyone who knows me well enough and they’ll tell you they’ve heard me say “Forever is a fucking lie we tell each other to hide from the pain that we know will always be inevitable.” And I said it because I believed it. I don’t know what that says about me… or the people who’ve supposedly “loved me” before, but I know that I believed it. That forever only meant “until this ends in a three ring shit show circus”, or “until I get bored and you get sick of who I am”, or at best, “until we fall apart because people can’t survive all the ups and downs of life together”.

But I don’t believe that now…

I actually believe I could sit back and watch the kids play and grow and evolve for the rest of time with him. I can see fitting into the crook of his body for every night of the rest of our lives. And that’s insane, isn’t it? Shouldn’t it be? It doesn’t feel like it is, or should be. I have always trusted my gut above anything and anyone else and everything I say now is coming from my gut, not some lust drunk, fantasy induced place in my head. I don’t see anyone else after him. I don’t have any “I wonder how long this will last” thoughts. I never wanted to believe in someone this much, ever again. I was completely unwilling to give one more person what I saw as being “too much power over me” ever again. I loudly refused to ever start over or try again.

Then he happened…

And now loving families, and crisp fall evenings, and white picket fences, and even happy endings, are all possible again. And I tell myself that I should be terrified…

But, I’m not.

by Ashley King
© All Rights Reserved 2017