Map of Me

5:01 PM Posted In , Edit This 1 Comment »
Start with my toes, curled and callused, nails painted the colours of the rainbow. Tapping to the music.

Bruises on my shins and on my knees, walking into tables and falling from a jump. I am such a klutz There were kisses from spring grass and autumn leaves that took away some of the pain.
Strong legs, muscular from years of my passion to skate. There are traces of lips and fingertips, lingering and soft.

The curve of my hips sway back and forth as I walk. I sometimes curse them as I struggle into a pair of pants. The ideal place to hands to rest while dancing, pull me closer and closer.

My stomach tells stories of nights spent on the bathroom floor that summer I turned 19. Move fast from here, it hurts. Pass over the middle, I'll be back, tonight I will take the long way home.

My shoulder hold the wight of the world, all my fears and a sleepy head. Tension released as be rubs lotion on my back. My neck like a princess swan reserved for his kisses, often draped in a necklace.

My head in constant conflict with my heart. It holds lyrics, poems, useless trivia, phone numbers, directions, movies how to's and how not to's: love, make cookies, play piano. All of it in flies for future reference.

My hair finally touches my shoulders sometimes curly, but often straight. I've always had bangs forever and over. Shades of purple and red peek out from the dark brown. I was blond for a bit, not my thing. I love when he runs his fingers through it.

My eyes changing from shades of blue to shades of green sparkling in the sunlight. My vision is blurred without my glasses but I dream clean, beautiful images at night. My eyes are wells ready to overflow with tears at any moment, happy or sad.

I scrunch my nose at things I don't like. There are smells of fresh chocolate chip cookies, the ice at the rink, sweaty dance shoes. Frequent nose bleeds when the weather turns cold and dry.

My lips covered in Lip Smackers. My tongue often stuck behind my teeth, often very quiet, but my lips speak words, sentences of longing, questions, happy, sad. Pillow talk about our day and the deep unanswerable questions. I sing loudly in my car and in the shower. My lips touching his, we kiss in odd numbers, every morning and every night.

Down my arms to my hands. Usually interlocked in his like puzzle pieces, his ring on my finger. Don't crack your knuckles my mom always said. My hands have filled a lot of notebooks. Paint under my nails, palms hurt from swinging a bit. My hands knit scarves and make supper. My hands run through his hair and down his strong back squeezing him close. Our hearts beating in sync.

My heart hold the most stories. It was many scars from being dangled by a strong then dropped shattered in a million pieces. Finally found my soul mate and the pieces became whole. My heart guides me, it is where I go for advice. My heart sometimes feels to big inside my tiny chest and often feels like bursting with joy or heartache.



***There is more to this map, but I just can't write anymore, but I wanted to share...

1 comments:

Jane Swanson said...

Ashley,
Such honest and beautiful writing. Thank you for sharing!
It's a neat format, that Map writing.
~jane