The Painting


It gets me angry
to think of the one hundred and eighty degrees.
How can a scene change so much in a week?
I showed everyone my painting
just to have it crack and flake in the making.
I haven’t tried restoring it
and I certainly haven’t boasted about it,
yet it still haunts me like Dorian Grey.
I hate how that day
still provokes so many emotions,
while everything in between is a haze.
It might be
because it’s still damaged in my attic,
waiting to be retouched,
but I remain static.
Who knows when I’ll get around to that.
I can’t have it.
In the meantime,
I just hate how angry that image makes me.
And, hopefully,
It’ll just keep fading.

About Tatiana Figueroa Ramirez

Born in Puerto Rico and raised in the mainland United States, I graduated with a B.A. in English Literature from the University of Maryland, Baltimore County (UMBC) and am a 2016 VONA Voices Alumna. I currently perform spoken-word in the greater Washington D.C. area and have previously performed in Philadelphia, Miami, and the Dominican Republic. Most recently, I have been published in Public Pool, Spillwords, and The Acentos Review, and Here Comes Everyone: East & West Issue.

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