You have galaxies in an iris and
Constellations lining the
Curvatures of your palms but
You count the steady stream of
Craters left on the hardened shelter
Of volcanic rock holding
Your bleeding heart together –
And you call yourself defective.
You forget the courage of the
Soft tissue that dares to beat and
Bleed molten hot passion
And love from a core
That dares to keep churning
While the fists keep flying
And scarring.
You abhor the marks
And the memory of
Wasted muscle on a skeletal frame
And you call yourself broken.
But I marvel at the broken pieces
How they shine with the light of a
Dying star, and your eyes
That glow, not with the white-hot hatred
Of a nuclear blast
But with the electric florescence of
An expanding sun.
You are
Light, and you are
Power, and you are
Fragments
Of the skeleton you were
With a million universes on your fingertips
And a billion lives on your tongue.

*(Be big.
Expand.
Take up space in
His arms and
Your head, and I promise:
One day the world will
Stop filling your core with
Negativity, and you’ll
Supernovae.
And you’ll be beautiful.)

House maid
I was told that a house maid was someone that you paid.
A person. A stranger. A worker.
Someone that you don't really know.
Someone that you are estranged to.
Someone that simply cleans up after you.
You can't really complete sentences to them,
because when you look them in the eye, you only see a worker.
Seeing that honestly this person is beneath and worth only your filth.
That treating them decent would make them more.
That's not what you want, you want to see them as your servant.
While lying that you think of them as family.
Coming in and out of your house daily.
They only have time to clean up after your family.
When they come home to their own mess, there's nothing left.
Energy they used to ease your life, was the energy to rebuild their own.
Without energy all they have is the ability to rinse and repeat the cycle.
Now while I act like your house maid.
I no longer see you as the family members I maybe had.
but the estranged owners that now I have.
You are not simply my boss, but the people that own my life.
When I come and go out of my room to clean yours.
I see only the people and things that belong to strangers.
I am a live in house maid.
The only difference from me and a house maid is that they get paid.
You owning my life and all else, simply reminds me that I am no maid.
That simply put, I am most likely your slave.
and what a difficult place to be,
when I used to be your son.

It was simply murky evening
Amazing sparking stars has fallen down
Cold air had just kissed me
To remember you

And you give me reason to smile
You spark up my life, my world
Dear, with your presence I feel divine
Your amazine touch heals all my pain

I’ve seen a dream with you
To be around in all ups and downs
In this sweet journey of my life
And you give me a reason to smile

My beloved, a very happy birthday to you
Together we make awesome two
Together we make awesome two…!!!

©Saujan Gyawali
20 October 2014

I have but one match left,
to ignite a flame in the darkened
heart you call home. I know that after
becoming as cold as it seems
you have, the fire can be difficult
to feel. But I promise, I swear,
should that light go out,
your hand shall remain in mine and
I will stay in the dark with you.