Poems and Poetry

Ashley Morgan

Where Do We Go from Here? A Poem by Ashley Morgan

We’re at an impasse. Any decision is the wrong decision on some
level, even the easiest decision is probably the worst: doing nothing at all. Let everything stay the way it is. Keep living in the pretend reality that everything is okay. Keep letting the years go by without making a decision. Keep hoping things will change. You know you keep repeating that stupid quote in your head “The definition of insanity is repeating the same action and expecting different results.” And yet you keep doing it. Because the moment you stand on the precipice, the moment you look at the edge at what’s unknown at the bottom, you pull back. You recede into what’s known, what’s comfortable. Even though you know it’s irrational. Even though you know it’s holding you back from progress.

This year you have come the closest yet to making the jump. Have
faith. The therapist is right: you are immature. You are not mature enough to stand on your own. You are not mature enough to take what
you already know and put it into practice. That one statement twisted your reality so far backwards, that now you aren’t sure what to do with yourself. It really is your fault. You put yourself here and only you can bring yourself out.

So, I ask again, where do we go from here? Do we continue on this path through the fishbowl we have been pretending is the world? Knowing that eventually it will end, but allowing someone else to make that decision for us? Are we that weak? Maybe we are. Let’s fade back into our false reality for a bit longer. It’s comfortable here with the wool pulled over our eyes.

Visit Ashley at https://ashleyjmorgan.wordpress.com/2015/03/26/where-do-we-go-from-here-an-inner-dialogue/.


Broken | A Poem by Ashley Morgan

There are so many things in this life beyond my grasp. Dreams,
aspirations, expectations I had for the future that just never could
have been realized. I am a dreamer. You knew this from the beginning.
And you were a wanderer – you loved deeply, but that love was
flawed. Just as I am flawed. I am broken.

Like the toy that is thrown aside when something shiny and new comes
along, you kept me because perhaps deep down you really needed me, but
you did not appreciate me. I am the beaten and battered toy from so
many tumbles into the back of your mind. And I am broken.

My flaws are real, there is no one on this earth that is perfect. But
imperfect as I may be, I loved you with as much that any person could
give another. I sat by you through bad times and relished in the good.
I tried my best to fix myself along the way, to pick up the broken
pieces of my heart, to give you as much love as I could. Yet in the
end, I remain broken.

As unhealthy as this love may be, I need you. You are the glue that
keeps the pieces together and you are the hammer that rips them apart.
Each time I shatter the pieces scatter farther, taking more and more
time to find. Will you be there to find the pieces to fix my broken
heart or will you again disappear to leave me blind in the dark? I am
still broken.