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 Jun 2017 Robert Guerrero
Àŧùl
I know about myself that I am rude,
I am very much that cool dude.
I refused accepting my deathly abode,
I sent the grim reaper back.
I know that he was racing with me,
Noting my bike's speed.
But I know that once I did survive.
My HP Poem #1592
©Atul Kaushal
I gate the desires
like veins does blood
As my temptress
bolds my love

Cheeks talk white
Tongues see thin
I kiss the dreams
And plush my sin

The seven truths
A bridge to burn
I kiss your soil
I parch your fern

I steal your breath
Amp your light
I'm shadow between
Silk and night

I am the art
Within your book
I am the castle
To your rook

The calyx face
So bee Devine
I make honey
One kiss a time
I check for your poems
Every month, week, sometimes day
Hoping for a new release
I remember how close we once were
And how everything changed
It used to bother me but
Now it's just strange to remember
How we talked for hours on end
Trying to hold on to something
That I think we both knew would never work
I guess that's just how it goes
My old friend
I'm just too scared to say
Hey. I miss you
You know who you are
Bruised Peaches
Those hit, hidden
Shamed
Belittled and bitten
By the very people we loved most
Mocked
For staying with the bearers of our
Bruises
We warrior spouses
Some of the peaches are lucky
we rolled from the pain baskets
Others have to stay for seedlings
This particular peach
After years of bruises
Nearly got squished between the fingers
of a bruise bearer
And I'm bitter mush
But I'm still whole
And all the while
He whispered,
I love you, I love you little peach
He gave me a seedling
She grew
and with her
My knowledge grew
It took the kingsmens axe
To cut me from that dead tree
But thank God
This peach, is free
~A
It's the hardest thing in the world to leave an abusive relationship. We're often made to believe it's our own fault. Even after one leaves, the lawyers, judges, counselors even, make you feel "less than".
I rarely write of my awful marriage. Even today I'm ashamed. And I know that it wasn't anything I did but that fact escapes me sometimes. My love to you all. Especially the Peaches.
Our lives are pregnant with insignificance.  
Things like--pecker gnats and Chihuahuas,

fake bronze menorahs,  white t-shirts,
and plastic daffodils.  Good Mental

health demands we balance life’s  trivial
with significant concerns, such as--cost-free

drugs to feel less bad, dealing with suicidal
people who find homicide intriguing, predicting

a python’s hunger pangs and the why, of
Saturn’s four rings;  the wise know the difference.
It always starts with just a sip
Maybe a shot
Then the games begin
And I want it
The burning in my throat
The room keeps spinning
Round and round
I keep downing more and more
Prolonging the buzz
Until it's more than just a tingle
Bottle after bottle
Pulling me in
I'm drowning in the buzz
My life jacket in this misery
The only thing keeping me afloat
Under the crushing weight
Of my uselessness
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