If I could, I promise I would shower her with everything she ever asked for.
Hold her hand when the woman from across the street stared at us,
hold her face when she shivered in my arms.
You realize you were in love when it's far too late
“When you bleed, I cry, and if you cry, I'll break”
And you fell too soon but you were supposed to be straight,
And now you're sitting here, in his blood and cold
Driven into a dead-end by fate.
i picture myself as being a replica of her - a carbon copy
it makes me believe that i am exactly like her and often even confuses me
i watch her go, in awe of this mesmerising collage of her,
she turns, looking at me gasp at the sheer beauty of her,
The one that you should spend your life with and bicker over ice-cream flavours and sing love songs off tune and visit places that are just right for Instagram.
the first girl i fell in love with had a shy smile, a just born style
and a profile of a life lived in black and white
see, for the rainbows in your pocket peeked out sometimes
the giggle bubbling at the edge of her throat and eyes glinting with mischief
figures can't encompass the unadulterated joy of playing a prank
maybe my skin is pale, or it’s not
or maybe i think i’m gay, or i’ve fought
battles and cried and begged for my rights
I am a shell of what’s left of me
I’m not who I used to be
So if you run into the girl I was
Don’t hesitate to tell her, her cause
Give her kindness and give her love
Before she disappears above
And becomes another constellation in the sky
Blue were the days when you thought I wouldn't stay,
Your eyes teary, a challenge, asking me to run away,
But in the middle of the dark woods, we somehow found a way
My words became the music to which you could sway.
Don’t get me wrong,
My fight is not with that woman, I am just a different kind of woman.
Meena put her lip gloss on. Litchis filled the air.
Both of them, thinking the same, of how fruits beg to be plucked.
The symphonic rhythms of her breath etched into my being,
I look up at her face as she gently presses her lips on mine.
What if I could not celebrate 6th September publicly,
What if I could not join the Pride march,
What if I was not the torch bearer,
What if I was not the path clearer,
That doesn't make me more or less important.
The corners of her mouth rise up occasionally, as if she knows -
as if she knows that the whole day, I struggle to find the words which describe what goes on in my mind,
all the things I want to tell her; how her skin reminds me of the soil that I grew up on, how her dangerous eyes seem to lure me in, and how her magnetic soul has held me captive.
It is words strung together
trying to make sense
of what I want to tell you
and what I need you to understand.
He says things to me, he does things to me.
Shh, don’t tell them, we’ll be embarrassed.
Two loveless souls trying to fill each other’s voids.
We make love, and tame those devils.
Animals we were, but don’t you see that this is our way of love?
She spoke of songs, music, rock and Cobain
She spoke of boys, home, and love