letters to my first love, pt. i

Ashley Ward

Woman Looking in a Mirror. Faith Ringold. 1966.

trey,

you asked me once what i
was most afraid of.
i could not tell you then
but i know what i do not fear.
i am not afraid to bare to you
the spaces between my ribs,
the quiet parts that suffer only
in exhalation.
they have been imbued with a
sooty grit and make quite
the resting place.
the space behind my knees
is just as well.
warm and taut, the
bending of its joints is the
closest to an embrace i have
allowed myself in quite some time.
there is comfort in the
unknown space i have
made of myself,
around my ear,
the room behind my tongue
and under my eyelids.
i will gladly offer that emptiness
as oblation, a plea for clemency
unto your willing hands.
i am not afraid to show
you all of the shallow parts
i’ve made of myself.

the apprehension that haunts me
is found in you becoming privy
to the recesses of my heart.
herein lies all of the grey matter
i am made up of:
tear-stained cheeks and
pillow-matted hair,
tired feelings and
relentless mistakes
that read as eye-worn testimony.
i am ashamed of this honesty,
this beating flesh,
the tendons and tendrils
of all of my nothingness.
oh, how easily it is worn on my skin,
vicious and ugly and awake in
every step i take.
oh, how i am left with
nothing to show for it.

Ashley Ward is an emerging poet from the Austin, Texas area. Passionate about advocating for social justice, her work often centers love and equity. She has been published in trampset, dreams walking, Variant Literature and Kreaxxion Review and her work is forthcoming in various journals. You can read more at www.ashleywrote.com. You can find her on Tumblr, Twitter and Instagram at @ashleywroteit.