Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2011 · 933
call me
Ruth Miranda Jul 2011
call me at night
when I think that I have no hope
call me any time
when I let my tears fell down
call me today
when I have lost my soul


call me when I have made a mistake
when I have let my fears eat my happiness
call me when I crying out for a change
when I have forgotten you, completely.


call me now.
Ruth Miranda Oct 2010
Tell me how the echo of your emotions extinguished my cares about you,
or how your smiles, cries, worries are not mine anymore.
Tell me why the brightness of your eyes
do not brighten up my world as it used to.
Tell me how there is an empty space in my heart
which is waiting to be filled again
when did it happen?

It feels good but it tastes bad,
I can't pronounce what I shouldn't say
but I do not care anymore.
the magic is gone.
by Tutinea ©
Oct 2010 · 1.2k
Faking
Ruth Miranda Oct 2010
I’m faking and my lips are lying

My eyes do not say I love you anymore
But I need you.
My mind doesn’t want you to leave
But my heart does not want to stay
I can’t see myself alone
And I can’t let you go
But keeping you inside,
Has become an imaginary situation.

I’m faking and my lips are lying

My fondness cannot see you suffering
And my soul does not want to hurt you,
But the magic affection has become extinct.
Truth and Falsehood are sharing the same bed,
Each of them trying to stay longer.
Evasion and prevarication decided to stay long time ago,
But today, without feeling remorse
I have decided not to fake anymore.

I’m not faking and my lips are telling the truth.
by Tutinea ©
Ruth Miranda Oct 2010
Walking under the rain I give up,
I give up with the smell of your worries,
with the way you smile
your completely untrue stories.
I give up with the taste of your two soft, red edges,
which are part of your mouth,
with the unpleasantly sharp taste of your lips.

I give up to let the phoenix
set fire to itself and born again,
raising from its ashes.
I give up with a satisfying meaning.

I will stop trying to guess
whether I'm here or there
I will stop doing my research
before I have completed it.
I will log out before being knocked out.
I will let that great affection
work with the reflexive pronoun "I".

I give up to let the ability to recover
quickly fill me in...body and heart
I give up with a pleasantly meaning
by Tutinea ©
Oct 2010 · 1.4k
I don't know you yet
Ruth Miranda Oct 2010
Sometimes I look for you at night,
And every now and again I wonder what you look like
or what are you doing while I write.

Once in a while, I take long walks
And I think of you.

Sometimes I wish I knew your name
Or the city in which you live
Occasionally, while I look through the window,
I picture you in my mind.

Once in a while, when the rain wets my thoughts,
I dream of you.
by Tutinea ©
Oct 2010 · 642
Cover me
Ruth Miranda Oct 2010
Taking hold of me, while I'm moving through the ear
That is the way you love is...that is the way I feel.
uncertain are the plans that you have for me
but still I'm here, excited about unpredictable things
still here, trying to reach places where I've never been
walking.... back and forth....looking for what has been promised,
Hoping to see what has been expected.

Sometimes I have decided to leave, not to eat
Sometimes I've gone away, run, escaped
but I always comeback where strong feelings are found
I always comeback where I feel like a child.

I've promised,
I've told you that I will certainly do what you deserve
I've said  that I will follow you wherever you go
But today, on my knees,  I will ask you to see
what is not easy to observe
I'm asking you to cover my heart, mind and body with your strength
and  pour your love into my heart
God, today, I'm asking you.
by Tutinea ©
Oct 2010 · 1.8k
Insideout feeling
Ruth Miranda Oct 2010
hate, like flames in someone's eyes,
anger which  makes you want to hurt,
vexation provoked by fury,
and fury held inside.


The state of being annoyed,
displeasure arouse by grievance,
a taste of bitterness caused by outrage,
and outrage  internally kept.


maddening violence
aggravated by exasperation,
indignation evoked by irritation
and irritation born privately.
by Tutinea ©
Oct 2010 · 703
Old me
Ruth Miranda Oct 2010
Old me, I've been looking for you
for your naive thoughts, clean feelings, pure heart,
trustful words, sweet eyes,
and even for your immature comments.

Sometimes, hopes talk about you
and  smiles remember your good friendship,
the one you used to be.


Old me, when did you get lost?
Where did you go?
I've lost count of the times I've seen you
You just disappear as  vapor or fog.


Why did you decide to put your arms down
Who should I blame?
I know you are afraid to comeback,
Strength and trust you lack.

Old me, I'm calling your name,
awake from your sleep.
by Tutinea ©
Oct 2010 · 686
Incapable twenty four
Ruth Miranda Oct 2010
Twenty four years looking for perfection
But all I’ve gotten is rejection.
Refusing to believe
I know they always deceive.

Twenty four years and my heart has been broken up
Like bubbles, sometimes, they just pump up.
My world has been crushed down
But my head has faced the town.

Twenty four years and I’m still waiting,
but now, I feel like hating.
I want to be hold
Cause I see my hopes to get old.

Twenty four years and no one has really fought
Some of them, misery have brought.
Incapable is how I feel
And It doesn’t feel real.

Twenty four years and I still wonder
Is there any thunder?
Someone who can leave everything to follow my soul
Dry my tears and give me console.

Twenty four years and I don’t know what I lack
That they always take their promises back.
Incapable of being loved
It’s not something I feel proud of.
by Tutinea ©
Oct 2010 · 705
VALDNYC
Ruth Miranda Oct 2010
Yet in the plane, a bitter taste in my mouth, my heart beat risen,
everything getting even worse -- the feeling of escaping.
Escape to know a whole new world,
from leaving my dusty country boots,
changing my culture, language, sceneries, people
but mostly, taking off the mask of a girl and changing it for a woman's.
A woman without parents, friends, siblings,
A woman alone in the big apple.


I  left my little South American  city, Valdivia,  
arrived to the world's cosmopolitan capital.
I changed my rural roads, covered in dust
for streets with thousands of  modern vehicles.
The wooden houses were now impressive buildings,
and the echo of a flummox 2009
got sometimes confused with millions of voices, accents,
faces, skin colors, souls.


It was a year spent in the most popular city
where countries around the world meet as brothers
where avenues separate china from Italy
and where a huge park looked like home.
For a whole year green trees were changed for green signs,
People -- walking souls -- always in a rush
It was New York  the city where my memories were left
and it is Valdivia were I bring them back.
by Tutinea ©

— The End —