#ashleyshanks

With all the sunshine of my solar plexus.

I send my flaming love on winds of change,

In dancing, and whirling fire devils that spin for you

And light every heart on fire, and make up a massive funeral pyre

For every dead and damned thing that shouldn't be.

I love my love like loving is free.

I love my love with an E. Like emeralds

And fresh new leaves in the aftermath.

Like green glass bottles stirring

Just slightly to show that change needn't hurt.

Right here- feel it? In the center of my sternum.

That's where my love for all the world lives.

I love my love like salt.

Like big gaping wounds in the earth crusted over with salt,

Like drowned witch's tears, great, massive landmarks in war torn Persia,

All the salt glaciers of unshed tears. Grieving for me.

Grieving for you.

Grieving for us all.

My loving you is green and gold,

Wind and fire, salt and earth.

My loving you is blue

Like the heart of a star. Like the heart

Of a fire devil grown in a lab.

Blue, blue, blue devil-

Blew away all falsehoods, blew away all weaker versions of itself,

"Those of us who are concerned for the welfare of Ashley Shanks demand to know why her health was not considered a priority at Hope House- a place meant for respite! Shame on you for recklessly endangering the life of another human being for no good reason!"

(509)624-2378

[email protected]

After that they got me a respite bed at Hope House, but it's been anything but restful. The Psyops harassment mobbing continues here, with my first time in the cafeteria ending in an entire room full of bitchy old women screeching and swearing at me for the crime of selecting a second tray instead of the one at the top of the stack.