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 Aug 2013 Tatiana Arredondo
S
I had pictured that I would be strong enough to leave without remorse,
as I had to "challenge my prospects of life",
like everyone would say,
I needed to smoke out who I really was,
and not find myself crawling back to you,
but it was after I had packed up my life into small obsolete card-board boxes,
that I realized how trivial and small I really was.

I felt so alone.

I longed to feel the familiar shape of your body pressed up against mine,
to wake to your bright hazel eyes,
to the smell of your mango shampoo engolfing my senses,
to hear your breath harmonize with mine,
and to intertwine our legs into a maze that neither of us could escape from.

I missed you.

But you disconnected from me,
and when I rolled towards the middle of the bed,
and found it empty and alone,
experiencing for the first time that the receptivity of our hearts had grown apart,
like the un-uniformity of a puppeteer getting tired of old dolls,
and cutting the strings of the marionette,
at the perfect spot,
in order for me to feel the pain and deceptively obvious sadness,
of not wanting you to leave.

With you gone, I feel as though my world stopped.
Cliché as how I always thought that I would be the one to leave you,
but I was wrong.
she said i only love the
enticing parts of people,
the same way i highlight
my favorite lines in books
so i’ll have something to
focus on when i decide
to blow the dust off their
spines.
you’re missing everything
and you know it and
you don’t care,
she said.
you’re missing the real
parts. you’re cheating people
out of themselves.

even then, i wanted to
quote her.
She's cheerful by her spirit.
She's beautiful by her nature.
She's youthful by her heart.

She's stylish by her spirit.
She's childish by her nature.
She's kiddish by her heart..

She's friendly by her spirit.
She's leisurely by her nature.
She's mine only by her heart...
My HP Poem #345
©Atul Kaushal
 Jul 2013 Tatiana Arredondo
Julia
The wind
                                                       at my door
                                                                                                              RATTLES me

shakes me
                                                       free of my
                                                                                                               pointed finger

Blameless, I
                                                       turn inwards,
                                                                                                               concave,

I search
                                                       for the love
                                                                                                                in me

& return
                                                       with a bunch
                                                                                                                of old bones,

skeletons of
                                                        myself that
                                                                                                                 I have wasted

away on
                                                         pleasing other
                                                                                                                   people's needs

so that
                                                         they could use me
                                                                                                                   as a net

when they
                                                         fall, & tell me
                                                                                                                   that I pushed

them, that
                                                         it's all my
                                                                                                                   fault.
 Jul 2013 Tatiana Arredondo
Julia
The grown-ups insisted
that G-d always stood behind
me, through everything,
but no matter how fast
I ever whirled around
It seemed He was always
one step ahead.
 Jul 2013 Tatiana Arredondo
Julia
Look there in the field--
a funeral march for the lost desires,
a waltz for the mourning.
Can you see them?
The bald, wasted wishes
dancing high above the heads
of the grass,
in the wind,
quivering with sadness.
 Jul 2013 Tatiana Arredondo
Julia
I lay face down on the sheets
                           on the pillow
                    t   ng
                      a    led in blankets

breathing in every last bit of euphoria
   injecting it into my bloodstream
watching the insides of my eyelids
             turn
ORANGE
                                                     ­                                          PINK
                                                BLUE

s     ­        l
  w      r      i      g           around
       i            n
                                           until I can once again
feel the heat of your fireplace
  again in my heart
                                                     between my thighs
because
               the scent of you in my bed
is the scent of granted wishes
                     of guilty seduction,
                 reasons why we never leave the porch.

It is the call into the wild

         that sends the beaten, driven out

dreams tip-toeing out from behind

        the trees, the dark bars of reality
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