Poetry
You are Ash,
short for Ashley,
the name I was almost given.
A part of me,
and yet completely separate.
You are Ash,
like what remains
after hurt and anger
burn through my body
and are extinguished by tears.
You are Ash,
the black chalky substance
I smear into words on the page:
imperfect, smudged,
yet beautiful in your honesty.
