Beyond

 
 
Sitting on a cold concrete cricket pitch. 2 AM. Vodka – Raspberry.
No one had told me I was clever before
And I began to understand that I could think
I could think what I thought on the page
By writing it down
On the pages you read when we were riding on trains
In the years of late adolescence into early twenties – beyond
Writing & sketching & painting & drawing
Our lives in our broken-girl language that
Engulfed notebooks & scraps of paper on my desk
No one had told me I was allowed to believe before
And I began to understand that I could think & dream
On pages, in notebooks, with pens & with pencils
Sharing echoes of nights & skipping rope ideas
You were the influence & the alcohol & the cricket pitch
That I think about when I am bruised & stuck for material
The idea that I can be clever & totally believe-able
Came from your mind into my hands
To the pen, to the page, to the world – beyond
I wish I could give you something to pay you
For telling me who I was when you could, when you did
But you’ll go to bed tonight empty handed,
Thinking & wondering & painting your dreams
Because you knew what I didn’t when you knew it, way back then
And you’ll live knowing more than I can ever comprehend.
© 2013 Violet Ashes

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