Home > Author > Ashe Vernon
1 " What they don’t tell you about the illusionis that I am as much lion as I am lion tamer.And I got good at inflicting pain the same way I got goodat soothing it.This, we call unfortunate,but inevitable. "
― Ashe Vernon , Belly of the Beast
2 " What they don’t tell youabout standing up for what you believe inis that your feet will bruiseand your legs will ache. "
― Ashe Vernon
3 " don’t you dare, for one minute,believe that my kindness makes me anything but insurmountable.i did not unzip my chest to every kind of hurt,and stagger back, wounded and alive,just to hear you call me weak for trying.i opened my door to heartache—i gave her the fucking key.my softness for wayward strangershas made me nothing lessthan a halfway house for aching soles.so when you open your mouthand call me ‘baby’understand that i am not your next victimin a laundry list of broken girls.you think i don’t know you? people like you?people with mouths for hands.i’ve got skin like topsoiland your teeth could never take root.so when you go looking to make a playthingof a sunburst,you better look for someone with less firethan me.because softness or no,i will eat you alivebefore i let you make a meal of me. "
4 " This is the story of how I never stopped running. This is the story of how, when the wolves knocked, I met them at the door and I became the beast, instead. "
5 " There are poets who sing you to sleepand poets who ready you for warand I want to be both. "
6 " You are a language I am no longer fluent inbut still remember how to read. "
― Ashe Vernon , Wrong Side of a Fistfight
7 " I am carving myself into a shapethat no one will recognizebecause it is better being the marblethan the monster. "
8 " Your ribcage never meant to hurt you.Your windpipe doesn’t know how to be pretty,but she knows how to howl—and here, I’d like to take a momentto submit a formal apology to my soft partsbecause they kept me warmwhen I was trying to freeze to death,and I hated them for it. An apologyfor a starvation that went deeper than my skin.One for the strongest skeleton I will ever ownand how I kept using the word girl against it.Or how I turned words like beautiful into shapesI could contort myself into. I didn’t meanto compare myself to faces I can’t have.Or spend years trying to carve myself,like Michelangelo’s angels, from the marble—forgetting what it is to be skin instead of stone.I let myself be afraid. I was taught to be.When you learn you are only as goodas your beauty routine, you forgethow to define yourself by anything else. "
9 " When he says he doesn’t love you anymore, roll your shoulders back and look him in the eye even when it feels like your ribs are breaking inward; like spider legs.When he digs up old aches that he swore he forgave you for, smile and ask him why he didn’t leave you sooner.Ignore the way the words feel like sandpaper running all the way up your throat to your mouth.When he blames you for mistakes that wear his face, do not scream.Do not cry.Tell him that there are boys who would be proud to say they’d love you.Tell him that in two years you won’t even remember his name and don’t let him see the way you can taste your own lie.When he leaves, ignore the howling in your blood and do not get up after him. Not even to lock the door.Do not, do not, DO NOT. Smell his shirts when you box them up to give them back. Not one.Swear off dating when you realize you’re chasing ghosts that wear his smile.It’s okay to cry over him. It’s even okay to forgive him. But do not go back to him if he did not know how to love you the first time. He won’t know how to do it the next. "
10 " Trouble is, I love better at a distance... "
11 " To whoever loves me next,I’m sorry if I’m afraid of youor if days of flirting turn toradio silence, without warning.I’m sorry if I make you say the wordsover and over and over until I believe them.(I’m sorry if I don’t believe them.)I will probably spend more timeworrying about losing you than I spendtrying to keep you.Trouble is,every single time I’ve ever thoughtsomething was too good to be true–I’ve been right.Understand,I will know how to be vulnerable with you,but I won’t know how not to regret it.And I have no idea how deep we’ll beinto this relationship before I admitI’ve never done this before.Not really.Not in any way that counts.Before I admit that I knowhow to put my body inside someone else’sbut not how to make it beautiful.I probably won’t be easy to love.Too many people loved me badly,I’m not sure I know howto do it right. "
12 " This is a story of survival. It is your story, even when you feel like that worddoes not belong to you. "
13 " But who buries the hatchetand who buries the bodies?And who says they’re notthe same thing these days? "
14 " First,quit picking old woundsand going for walks in the achesand pains you already made it through -you call it healing, butit sounds like a good wayto take a haunting home with you. "
15 " I am a cathedral of almost-lovers "
16 " I was a wolf, and they dressed me in sheepskin "
17 " Listen, in a few hoursour little world willturn herself right-side-up-again,and you will forget aboutall the ways this lonely night sang you watered-down blues andyour hands will start to make sense again.You think you've seen every ugly cornerof this whole rotten world, but listen:There is an infinite numberof things we don't know and,statistically speaking,at least half of themare probablyvery, very, beautiful. "
18 " When he saysHe doesn’t love you anymore,Roll your shoulders backAnd look him in the eyeEven when it feels like your ribsAre breaking inward, like spider legs.When he digs up old achesThat he swore he forgave you for,SmileAnd ask him why he didn’t leave you sooner.Ignore the way the words feel like sandpaperRunning all the way up your throat to your mouth.When he blames youFor mistakes that wear his face,Do not scream.Do not cry.Tell him that there are boysWho would be proud to say they’d loved you.Tell him that in two yearsYou won’t even remember his nameAnd don’t let him see the way you can taste your own lie.When he leavesIgnore the howling in your bloodAnd do not get up after him.Not even to lock the door.Do not, do notDo not.Smell his shirts when you box them upTo give them back.Not one.Swear off dating when you realizeYou’re chasing ghosts that wear his smile.It’s okay to cry over him.It’s even okay to forgive him.But do not go back to him.If he did not know how to love you the first time,He won’t know how to do it the next. "
19 " You are a language I am no longer fluent in but still remember how to read. "
20 " Being a Poet"People must thinkthat being a poet is very slow,sincere and quiet.But at nightthe inside of my chest isso loud,sometimes I stay awake for days,trying to out-howlthe hungerinside it. "
