Archive for the ‘Ashley’ Category

Sorry… by Ashley

Posted: September 9, 2009 by acurry18 in Ashley

Well, I don’t really relate to this piece much, but I can speak of those whom I feel I have hurt in some way or another.

This is slightly pathetic but… I’m sorry for that message; I really shouldn’t have said that… and although you were originally the rude one, I still feel the need to say “I’m sorry.” It’s my human nature. We were just friends, but it still somewhat saddens me to know that we used to talk online on a daily basis and occasionally in person. Now we don’t speak at all.
Hmm oh well, I guess the feeling’s mutual between us now.

 

This is to the point, no need to beat around the bushes. I’m sorry for never saying goodbye. It hurts deep deep down to know that I’ll never get the chance again. To see pictures of you, it hurts. I’m sorry for taking for taking your presence for granted, assuming you’d always be there. That, obviously, wasn’t the case.
& I’m sorry for that.

 

I could apologize to many more people, but we don’t want to be here all day. Some people don’t even deserve my sympathy or apologizes… but once again, it comes to with one’s human nature; sometimes I just can’t help but to be nice all the time.
& I don’t suppose that’s a bad thing either. I guess you could say I’m the antagonist on the other side of this poem, finally ‘fessing up and trying to make peace or things mutual among one another.

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Word of advice to all… by Ashley

Posted: September 9, 2009 by acurry18 in Ashley

 

Years ago, my friend had this wacky idea of going to a middle school baseball game at Whitman.. She told me it was a varsity game because she knew that was the only one that we’d want to watch.. Well, we soon found out it was JV but decided to stay for the game anyway..

As the game went on, we had became fairly tired and hardly anyone was in the stand.. So I decided to call my mother to come and pick us up.. I had clearly forgotten she had my dad’s truck, and her phone nor his was in there w/ her.. I finally got an answer at the house and told my dad to come and get us..

10 minutes passed, 20 minutes passed – still no Dad.. I was getting kind of worried..

I get a hold of Mom to come and get us.. She comes and gets us, furious as can be.. I allowed Jenna to sit up front with her while I sat in the back.. I soon find out that my dad was looking for me at Logan’s baseball field, not Whitman’s.. He didn’t know where we were; he didn’t have his phone on him either.. He searched all over the place..

We came home, and all we could do was to wait until he came home..
Until that time, we were just out of luck..

He came home – finally..
And everything was actually good among us all.. Well, not at first but it eventually got to that state..

He was glad to see Jenna and I safe & sound..

So word of advice to all kids: always verify with your parents/guardians where you are going.. Whether it be up the street or down the road.. Doesn’t matter – If not, you might very well end up in a situation like so.. And believe me, you do not want that..

Untitled — by Ashley

Posted: May 14, 2009 by acurry18 in Ashley

Peace to you, oh place of joy
Peace to you calm and unpredictable
Peace to you tangible and home

A blessing on the never-ending waves
Crashing, flowing into the shore
Bringing delight, joy, calmness to
people of the city

A blessing towards all rooms – the distinct
smell only found as you walk through these
doors, the warm breeze which finds its way
upon your skin as you open the balcony door

A blessing towards the live music
Hearing the amateur singer play covers of popular
songs, selling CDs for twenty-five a piece, an
outrageous price for such thing
Annoying, usually, but it’s a sure sign that shows
me I’m really home.

A blessing towards the constantly popular Jacuzzi,
the one that is always full,
that tingling feeling of searing, hot water on my stomach
as I take those steps and lay my back against the
water jets, setting my eyes upon the sky and staring
at flocks of seagulls, even the occasional airplane

A blessing on the [virgin] strawberry daiquiris, because
for anyone who tasted them, we know they simply are
the best.
The coldness of the plastic cup, extra bits of daiquiri
flowing down the sides, licking them before it drips
onto the deck

A blessing on the late-night walks on the beach
The feeling of slight warmth from the breeze, rustling strands
of your ocean hair across your face
The ocean barely touching your toes as you walk
across the sand
A blessing on the excitement of meeting new people, learning
about them and having fun while doing so

A blessing to this whole place,
this place where I feel safe, where I can confide in,
where I can leave my deepest worries behind and just
be myself

 

Oh well… by Ashley

Posted: May 13, 2009 by acurry18 in Ashley

♥ 

I lost you.
This summer, I lost you.
To someone, a guy – a guy I didn’t even know.
He was a stranger to me.
A stranger to you too, in a sense.
You met at the end of your freshman year.
So yes, a stranger he was.
He was quite older than us.

There’s one strike.

Do you remember when?
When crazy pictures and pointless gossip were all that we consisted of.
I remember.
Now those nights are only but a memory in my mind.
Left behind on an old, dusty, rigid road.
As if they never existed.
This summer, your days consisted of talking on the phone & messaging him.
Finding new friends, trying new things, oh and pushing me off to the side.
Without even noticing.

Strike two.

The rare trips to my house were a blast – not.
Sitting on the computer, you taking over my seat, talking to him and others on the phone.
Yeah – my idea of a good time.

Strike three.

I was going through hard times; you knew this.
I thought nothing else could go wrong.
Already had I lost one friend.
Then, you and I, our friendship slowly but shortly was coming to an end.
After a while, it completely came to a halt.
There were no tears, no crying at all.
Just anger, aggravation – that’s all.
You had no room for me in your life.

Oh well.

Things change.
People change.
Guess you found out who you really are.
I have too.
Through you.

Morning is… by Ashley

Posted: May 11, 2009 by acurry18 in Ashley

Morning is…

the sun shining through the back porch door,
onto the hardwood floors of an unlit living room

the sound of only my feet clacking as I make my
way through the living room and into the kitchen

early morning talk shows glaring from my bedroom
television, at just the right volume so I
don’t wake anyone up

my face, hovering over a pot of boiling water, the
warm feeling I receive on my cheeks as
I begin preparing lunch for the day

down the hall
my brother sleeping
quietly
and now
on summer’s first day
you
looking through the perfectly sunlit window
reading this piece
for I have not let anyone else see these written words

Remember…. by Ashley

Posted: May 11, 2009 by acurry18 in Ashley
Remember the first match you ever played.
Shaking nervously in your white and pink, & unmatching socks.
You were scared stiff, afraid you wouldn’t remember how to keep score.
Remember your opponent won, but that’s okay.
There’s a first time for everything.

Remember waking up at 6:30 and meeting at the middle school by 7.
Remember doing pogo sprints in the dimly-lit gym before ever taking off.
Remember the carpool rides, stopping at Fairplain’s gas station everytime you went.
Changing clothes in its bathroom stalls; one was always out of order.
Sometimes it’d have to be in the car, if we were in a hurry.
Remember Mr. Bailey yelling at you to roll down your window on the highway, while driving in another car, telling you to tell everyone else to pull off the road.
How he thought you’d do that is beyond imagination.

Remember arriving at Parkersburg, 6 courts and the odd one out that stood all by its lonesome.
You never did get to play on it.
Remember the 50 bathrooms and how clean each and every one of them were; they never seized to amaze you.
Remember the soccer games always occuring on the football field beside you.
The yelling, the screaming of their support systems, while your support sustems consisted of only clapping in between points.
The National Anthem playing, never paying attention to it – only now do you know that you were supposed to quit what you were doing and be silent.

Remember eating at Cracker Barrel.
There was always a select few who ate together.
Remember sitting across from the boy you had been crushing on.
He didn’t play tennis but was a friend of a player.
You were so nervous.
Remember your stomach doing mini flips and your friends embarrassing you about the whole thing.
Remember your doubles partner drooling on the table and him “Ew’ing” over it.
Yeah, that was pretty funny.

Remember eating at Ryan’s.
Remember the boys getting yelled at by the coach because they were playing with their food.
Remember him snorting in a girl’s ear and her thinking it was the grossest thing ever.
You laughed.

Remember playing that doubles match, your first doubles match ever.
Remember hitting it over the fence and onto your teammate’s father’s car.
He was asleep in there.
Remember when he woke up; the look on his face, as the tennis ball bounced off the hood – that was priceless.

Remember becoming 3rd seed your last year.
Two girls in their first year beat you out for the top 2 spots.
It’s all right; you knew why.
Remember playing that match at Marietta; their coach was always so nice.
Hair in ponytail, sunvisors, and Gatorade bottles just didn’t seem to cool you down from the sweltering heat beaming down on you.
That match lasted an hour; you were down 5-2.
She needed only one more game to win, but you came back.
It was tie breaker. Your coach then came in to keep score.
Remember the victory dance you did on the court when you won, and the other girl walking away sad.
You weren’t too sympathetic towards her.
She almost got you, but you weren’t about to lose.
You thought it was the longest match ever.

But now in high school, your matches last at least that long.

Everything’s different in high school.
The rules change.

Remember the last match at Hurricane.
You became upset at your doubles partner because she didn’t try.
The memory of the singles match is vague, but you’re pretty certain you did win.
Remember the group pictures of both teams, sitting in front of the net, Indian style.

You were all smiles.

Your coach told you there might be another match scheduled.
There turned out to be no other match – and it was over.

Just like that.

It was 2 of the best years you’ll ever remember.
Remember how tight-knit everyone was.

It was like another family.

 

Home….

Posted: May 8, 2009 by acurry18 in Ashley

 

This is a piece I wrote based on my current life and the place in which it takes place.

You will come upon a well-known neighborhood, where homes are ranging from small to of massive size.

The houses are bound so closely together, it’s hard to believe that anyone has a yard. This is the place almost all have to pass through.

Imagine those small towns where everyone knows your name. The antique & old, but overall modern feel, constantly seeing the same things on a daily basis — You know what I’m talking about?

Yeah, that’d be Logan.

The little hump of a hill, the short yet somewhat curved road that eventually leads to the larger-than-life-can’t-miss sign that reads “North Pointe” and sits in my yard; the red, brick house — It sets itself apart from its surrounding neighbors.

It is beyond the town itself, just a few moments away from the next city over.

But I don’t live there.
I live here.

And as much as I complain, living somewhere else, for now, just doesn’t seem fitting.