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 Jan 2015 Krusty Aranda
Morgan
You want me to let you in?
To call off the guards?
To let down the walls?
You,
So passionately,
want me to
stop fighting

so I will.



I will fall violently,
unadulteratedly
& freely
in love with you.

Just like you want me to.

And you'll lie in my bed all day,
while I try on eight different
dresses for my cousin's wedding

And when you leave,
I'll watch my skin shrink
as I lie
paralyzed
in my bathtub,
day dreaming
about the two small freckles
under the left corner
of your bottom lip

And the first time we argue
& you spend three whole days
angrily ignoring my calls,
I'll chain smoke
until my throat burns

And when you
finally decide
to show up at my door
with a vanilla latte
and apologetic eyes,
I will melt
pathetically
into your collarbones
and all down your spine

And then we will sit
Indian style
across from each other
on my kitchen floor
& you'll tell me in
excruciating
detail all your past lovers'
infidelities and unkindnesses
that led you to fight with me

And that will be it

That will be
the exact moment
when I will know,
without a doubt
that I am
completely & entirely
******

And I will cry into
your neck,
knowing for sure
that from then on
even the most passive,
nonspecific
mention of your name
will make my stomach float up
into my chest
& jolt back down
into my abdomen
like I'm falling
from the highest point
on a roller coaster

And no amount of
poetry,
whiskey,
midnight drives,
nicotine,
house shows
or therapy
will make it stop
or even distract
my soul from it for
a ******* split second

Because
once I allow myself
to love,
I love until I break &
then I keep on loving
until I'm nothing

And I just don't know
if your conscience
is strong enough
to carry the weight
of my shattered heart

So...
tell me Hazel Eyes,
just how bad
you actually want me
to pick up that phone
is your faith so fragile
you **** to protect it?
no notes necessary
I spent an hour or so,
crafting a letter that I'll probably,
never see as good enough for you,
to read.
But the words are genuine,
and my hands ache from writing,
such painful truths.
I await the day I can see you patiently,
though I await the day of your return,
a little less so.
One cannot wait with hands folded,
for the return of their mother,
without once saying,
the wait is too long.

May is too far away.
 Jan 2015 Krusty Aranda
Morgan
I thought I was lonely,
simply because I live alone
But lately I've noticed that
the loneliness of watching a
documentary I've seen
six times in six months,
surrounded by nothing but
the eerie darkness of 2 AM
in a one bedroom apartment
is nothing compared to the
loneliness of smoking a cigarette
at 4 in the afternoon with you,
counting tragedies on bruises &
scars in the spare room of your
best friend's new place
Doors slam,
voices are shrill,
this is home.

We are family.
and in our gathering,
we pick each other apart.

The vultures wait at our doorstep,
fed with our torn apart egos,
and tears preserved in mason jars.

We are family,
and we knock each other down,
we are home.
constant battle zones,
we tear each other limb from limb,
and preserve the memory,
of what we once were,
or could have been.
There are things that schools,
have simply forgotten to teach us.
Things that you're better off
once you know.
Like how the sun always follows
a rainy day.
Or that you're only as happy as
you'll let yourself be.

The simple things, that no teacher
has ever learned to teach
are the things that fuel us to keep going.
As long as your feet are on the ground,
it's never a bad thing to explore the clouds,
and to never let the negativity
grow to more than a whisper
in the back of the mind.

These are the codes to life
wake up; smile.
Be thankful for what you have,
and always be hopeful of receiving more,
because no amount of happiness
is "too much"
and remember that bad things
are only temporary.

Bad things may come in threes,
but so do good things,
and the lessons taught by our trials
are more valuable than gold.
If your nose is pointed at the ground,
you'll never smell the coffee
So chin up, smile.

Teachers never taught us happiness.
never taught us the delicacy required
to wipe away tears.
Never taught us how to deal with
sudden cases of sorrow.
These lessons will take us
the longest to learn.

So here's to a new curriculum,
one that teaches pain.
Because you can't learn to smile,
without having once felt tears
streaming down your face.
But also one that has an extensive
lesson planned on joy.
Just so you really know the difference.
 Dec 2014 Krusty Aranda
R
Dancing
 Dec 2014 Krusty Aranda
R
Her fingers danced
Along my ribcage
As she told me why
I must be having pains
In my chest.

Her fingers danced
On my *******
As she cupped them sweetly
And nuzzled between them like
She's always belonged there.

Her fingers danced
Down my spine
As she counted the freckles
On my back and made constellations
Out of them.

Her fingers danced
In my hair
As she grabbed close to my
Scalp and pulled where she knows I'll
Respond with "Ohhh".

Her fingers danced
Down between my thighs
Floating above the ocean below and
Diving in to explore her sea.

Her fingers danced
Around my neck as her
Hands cupped my face and
Kissed my lips gently but
With a fire that only I could
Recognize.

Her fingers danced
As they intertwined with mine
Because what is more intimate than
The innocence of hand holding
With a promise of forever
Imbedded in our fingertips?
For L, who has been asking for this for a long time. I love you my sweet girl.
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