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a collection of writings by Casey Ashman


April 18th
11:52 pm

whatever, something i never finished

he is lighting fires in the forest.  at this point, i think he’s done it all his life. “hospitals are the strangest cathedrals.” he says this to me & we are laying in bed but we’re 1000 miles apart. he holds a cigarette in one hand, and everything i am in the other. he has these lips and he is always making a little frown with them, like he is trying to figure something out. he wears ties to work & i can’t take him seriously when he does.

so, anyway, my blood is boiling & he’s not doing anything about it. i’m touching his skin like i don’t know he hates everything about me. and he lets it happen, because what else can you do? he pretends like he doesn’t care, like he’s so cavalier that even his heart fails to tip the scale. he lets me touch him because he knows that i need to. he knows i can’t stop. i kiss his neck, and i do that because if i can’t hid my heart in a hummingbird, i might as well hide it with him; because he enjoys the hurricane, & i’ll do just the same. 

the first time, it was a library. the second was the back of a pontiac. and the third was the last night of things at a bus station in downtown atlanta. “you’re strange.” it made the bones in my back hurt when he said it, like instead of stopping the bus kept going & hit me, because i have never known if it’s a compliment or not. there are lots of things i’ll never know about him. i don’t think i’ll ever know who he writes poems about. i’ll never know why he won’t go into a wafflehouse with anyone but himself. and i doubt he’ll ever tell me where he learned to stick to his guns the way he does. what feels so improbable is that i have never really made sense of him, and most likely never will. 

April 14th
10:51 pm

loser

i’ve written a lot of poems about
a lot of different boys
what if i sent them all to those boys
fuck that shit i don’t care
& i’m not going to
i’m not gonna care until i find a boy
who can make my tantrums go away
who never makes me disappear
or who will find me when i do
i read through some old poems
& i hate them but 
remember exactly how i felt when i wrote them
is that a thing that people do
i smoke a lot & it’s whatever i don’t give a shit really
i dreamt about a dude a few nights ago &
it was dumb because when i dream
about boys i get homesick for them immediately
but when i woke up from my dream about this stupid dude
i just wanted to go back to sleep &
dream about somebody else 
for once
i’ll sleep on your floor if you’ll let me 
i dream about being dirty broke
about being pretty & free
fuck dreams & fuck boys
i told my mom i want to find 
the Best Boy & that i’d 
wander through every back yard & broken promise
just to find him
& when i do i’m gonna light that
motherfucker on fire
boys always have a bone to pick or 
a bone to break & i’m sick to death
of being the heavy in their lives

April 14th
9:33 pm
http://actualhobo.tumblr.com/post/31554901153/i-am-sitting-outside-i-wrote-your-name-on-the

actualhobo:

i am sitting outside
i wrote your name on the corner of the page
and stared at it for minutes and minutes and minutes
i love it so much when you kiss me i want to
break my face on your face
so we can spend a nice day together
at the hospital.
if i am ever rich
we can buy jcrew sweaters for people

hey remember this lmao

when i drink

so i say to him “i wanna kiss that girl”
who isn’t him & he says “i like your blank
unconscious stare” like yeah Daddy i know 
you love dead girls like me & he does,
know that all boys love a girl who pretends
she has no idea how to use her teeth or 
has no idea she’s even got any
feel like the queen of death threats & “i don’t care”
queen of “daddy you can never be mad at me i’m
fucking heaven-sent”
i know i’m the one you want but i just can’t 
stop lying i know you hate my tantrums
& the way i throw things & break & scream & cry

can’t taste my voice when he says my name
through a phone, says “love you babydoll”
can’t dream without drowning or dying can’t 
sleep without dreaming
can’t find drugs strong enough to make me feel sane
or any feeling close to that

feel terrifying & like a lunatic girl with curly hair &
dark lipstick
i htink boys like you get lost in graveyards
that look exactly like dive bars or train stations &
they just wander around with their throats cut 
& some girl’s kiss on their cheek
know that boys like that can’t scare me if 
i stay in my rabbit hole, a wolf in bunny fur
deathly afraid of the way i wear sadness like a
second skin, itchy & too-tight i think love is made
for me to feel too small inside of, 
something i can’t wear well enough 
to feel happy

Don’t think i make any sense at all most of the time,
think that drugs have scattered my thoughts,
thrown them up into the air so god can catch them
& let them fall like the devil did,
wanna be something people know exactly how 
to love, never wanna make mommy mad at me 
because that’s the worst feeling i ever get
need to stop thinking that evryone means what they 
say just because i do, need to leave before i’m left.
i need control over something so i starve & starve
for love & for something to devour because if 
anything, at least i have these little toothpicks
to carry me away from every problem

thinking lately that maybe they’ll just break &
i won’t go anywhere at all, be stuck in this town, this 
house & this earth for longer than i wanted
my brother says there’s worse things than being alone
but maybe i don’t believe him because being alone
means cold & it means quiet & it means i crush up
an adderall on the nightstand & pretend that i’m going
to be happy come hell or high water but it never comes,
never gets to me somehow, i’m at the middle of the river 
& the ocean is never gonna fucking come

i’m a girl even lucifer is too embarrassed to think about 

i’m good at falling in love with people i’ve never met & im good at sitting in a boy’s lap like “yeah i know you like it” im good at kissing hard & going blind, good at dragging the past behind me like a tattered snot-stained blanket, good at burying my body & my heart & stars six feet deep so a boy can never find me or the way i kill everything i fuck
im bad at not being damaged

just had the thought “someone should write a novel
about me killing my boyfriend & moving
to pennsylvania to fuck some dude that i 
kind of hate”
but then i told myself
"casey you don’t have to fuck every boy
who remotely resembles james dean”

advice for girls who are in love:

hold a gun, take his wallet, kiss him once, run
keep your boots laced tight, fists clenched in your pockets, learn how to be like cardiac arrest in bleach-blonde hair dye. lie and tell him that you’ve never loved anything, steal his car, he won’t mind
tear into his world with your teeth, leave kicking & screaming, slam the door be damaged stop caring eat valium like it’s candy & love it, kiss him hard to get rid of the meth-mouth, bury everything you’re afraid of & don’t bother with tombstones, forget where you hid them, forget how to look. let the river bring you home safe to your bed. let go.
get drunk & kiss your bruised knuckles in the back seat of a fast car. tell your mother you’re going to live forever & nevermind if she doesn’t believe you.
quit living a victim’s life– save yourself, cum twice, dig your nails into his back because you’re a harpy & because you can. pretend your tongue is broken glass & tear him to shreds. tell yourself you’re a princess, too important for all of them, learn how to be alone
count to 16 and close your eyes, eat a few more valium, kiss yourself on the lips in the mirror after you get up off the bathroom floor. stand up.
run, bunny. run. run.

Dear mother
it is 1AM exactly & i am still awake and im sorry
i am wearing my ex-boyfriend’s shirt to sleep for the 3rd night this week
and im sorry
i know you know i snorted those Adderall last night 
you were never supposed to see that
i don’t have any excuse
being young & stupid & hungry doesn’t save me anymore
im sorry i never told you about the eating thing
i just have a shitty relationship with food & dont want you to think
im weak, something those boys know how to break down to bone
im sorry you had to give birth to me
i expect i was selfish & unapologetic just as i am now
mama i dont know how to show you where it hurts
i cant put my fingers on the bruises because i can’t find them
& im sorry

i sit outside in the wind smoking a cigarette 
& among thoughts of birds &airplane trajectories
there’s the quiet thought of me kissing your head &
calling you handsome
you’re the best boyfriend i ever met even if you have
communication issues i still want to not hurt your feelings
i like how when i pick at my skin & ruin it you still
put your hands on me like rain
i’m tired of the way i hurt myself im
tired baby can i stay the night? i can taste that
bottle of sailor jerry’s across the room & i 
bought us cokes from the gas station down the block
i love you & i want you to love me forever somewhere but
i want you to let me leave because boys will
never understand how heavy a crown is, 
how easily we disappear, how bad it hurts to fall from the 
top of those stairs all down to the bottom just because someone
forgot to say they love me more than god or anything at all
i can only happen like a thunderstorm,
all at once,
all at once & i want so badly for it to be easy,
want so badly to be like rain: soft & pretty to feel, but im not & 
im sorry your mama never told you that
some girls light fires because they like to watch you burn

a boy is a ghost is a ghost is a boy

i used to know a boy
whose knuckles were at least a thousand miles away
but would leave bruises on my arms
like stigmata
after he said goodbye the last time we ever spoke,
i banged my wrists against the steering wheel
in the macdonald’s parking lot & 
i swore to myself then that i wouldn’t eat until
that boy called me back & promised he’d stay,
& here i am 3 weeks after, realizing only now that my teeth
are sharp enough to kill him, to devour him neck-first,
that forcing myself to disappear does not count as revenge
a friend told me the other day that im like a wolf
protective of all that i hold, fearless, that i tear flesh
not of necessity but of sport
he said “damn the gods for every night you are not blessed
a full moon”
i slept almost 18 hours yesterday but when i woke up
i was hungry
& when i thought about him today it hurt
but he is not a ghost inside my head
& i have to stop pretending im haunted

s.t.