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Angelina Desh Jul 2014
How could your sweatpants retain your scent even though I washed them
Eight times.
P.S. I feel like I've lost you when I take them off.

I still feel your curls between my fingertips from that time I put you to sleep.
P.S. I knew you loved it but I acted surprised when you told me you did.

I told you I was sweating because I forgot to turn my AC on but it was because I felt the spaces between your fingers fill mine.
P.S. I was freezing.

Thank you for letting me rest my head on your shoulder all of those times I was exhausted.
P.S. I was always wide awake.

Thank you for lending me your t-shirt for gym class.
P.S. I had two extras in my locker.

You told me I looked beautiful when I came to school with no make-up on.
P.S. I haven't worn any since.

We fell asleep with our hands miles apart until I felt yours tapping mine
calling
"Hey, come back home."
P.S. Please let me come back home.
Angelina Desh Jul 2014
I've spent too much time loving a heart that's not mine.
Always making sure it's light rather than continually putting up a fight
How tiresome it's become knowing that I'll always have to battle
against the eyes that tear me from ear to ear
cheek to cheek
yet failing to construct a smile
I'd break my own heart to stand in the shadow of your happiness.
I've spent too much time loving a heart that's not mine.
Angelina Desh Jul 2014
Why did we have to meet
Just as you moved me in the basement
While you were still
my foundation.
  Jul 2014 Angelina Desh
Sylvia Plath
I'm a riddle in nine syllables,
An elephant, a ponderous house,
A melon strolling on two tendrils.
O red fruit, ivory, fine timbers!
This loaf's big with its ****** rising.
Money's new-minted in this fat purse.
I'm a means, a stage, a cow in calf.
I've eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there's no getting off.
Angelina Desh Jul 2014
I don't want someone pretty.

I want someone who makes me realize that constellations
are just hammocks catching the fallen dreamers.

I want someone whose voice resonates
like a strummed guitar when she laughs.

I want someone who hands will find their way to mine
in the middle of the night when the darkness clouds
our judgement.

I want someone who lives life without reading the directions first.

I want someone who reads the fragmented sentences
and grammatically incorrect phrases
pieced together and labeled "thoughts".

I want someone who appreciates my useless talent
of stitching up loosely strung together metaphors.

I want someone who can answer this question:

"How did you ever let her leave?"
Angelina Desh Jul 2014
I cradled your heart in my hands
like a mother to her newborn.

You always said you hated doctors but
you sure knew how to make my bones feel brittle
and my heart stop dead in its tracks.

I listened to your rants just like I listened
to that CD I made you
Over and over again
Making sure everything was perfect
And it wasn't and I wasn't and I'm still not and I still thought you'd say thank you.
Then again, I also thought you'd stay.

I used to love your sweaty palms but now I'm poisoned.
They say that you grow new layers of skin in certain intervals of time
but you've seeped through my pores.
No matter how many times I come alive again
you'll always be running through my bloodstream.

You cut me with the edges of the stars I caught for you
and I bled until there was nothing left
for myself anymore.

You run laps through my daydreams and my night terrors
snatching each sliver of emotion I could possibly be feeling
Shoving it deep down into your pockets
where you know I'll never be able to reach
You don't allow me that close.

I've tried to read my palm lines but I can't
I only see your name engraved in the hand you once held tight
with intent to keep in there
just for the night.

We stayed in bed listening to our songs
but we couldn't hear over each other's heartbeats
and the sound of me praying that you would be there
when I woke up.

I should've prayed louder.

— The End —