They say the eyes are the
     window to the soul,
        I say looking through
can make you lose control.
     Climb through to depths
            you can't imagine
        and you'll discover
   the sunshine within,
        and a love so **genuine.

Being told you are beautiful
Is one thing
But being told you are beautiful
And believing it
Is another

I have been called beautiful
More times than there are freckles on my face
(And that is a lot)
But not until recent
Did I ever believe it

Usually I would brush it off
And see it as an empty compliment
Or a conversation filler
Or a device used for personal gain
Any time someone would tell me I was beautiful
I wouldn't believe it
Not even a little bit
And that's the way it was for a very long time

I was too used to people leaving
Especially after I let them get close to me
And touch me
I was too used to being let down
I couldn't trust anyone but myself
And I didn't think I was beautiful
With or without anyone's truthful or deceiving opinion
I truly thought I was the farthest from beautiful

Usually when people would give me such a compliment
I would say
"No, I'm not
And you don't mean that"
Most didn't bother to argue
So I never once believed it
Until I heard you say it

At first I tried to do what I always did
But you wouldn't take no for an answer

I'm not sure if it's the way you say it
Or how many times a day you say it
Or just the fact that I trust you enough
But I really do believe you
When you tell me I'm beautiful
Hearing the words, "You are so beautiful, Evynne"
And feeling the honesty and passion pierce my heart
Is something I have never experienced before

I may not think I am as beautiful as you like to tell me I am
But at least I believe it
And when I say I believe it
I do not mean I agree
But rather, you tell me I am beautiful
And I think to myself, "You really do make me feel beautiful"
Regardless of any prior opinions I held of myself

Now that is a very powerful thing

Darling,
you're much more than
those three little words.

We're almost touching.
we were walking side by side,
you're talking about cabs in your hometown.
I can feel the gravity of your hand, calling my fingers
whispering "it's alright."

We're touching but not quite.
you held my shoulder to protect me from the passing cars.
and for the first time in a long while, I felt so fragile.
In this world where I find it hard even to breathe,
you believed me.

I almost said it.
All I need is one ounce of strength to tell you every single thing that I have ever felt about you.

I want to find home in your collarbones.
Would you be kind enough to let a stranger in?
I want to seep in your being because I'm cold.
The world is harsh and my cracks are aching.

Almost.

So much love in you.

So much treasure locked away,
Unable to be shared.

Too much love in you.

Too many rivers to your spread delta,
Where you stand bravely to drown.

Immortal love in you.

The gift of a soul,
The truest something.

So much love that you'd give it to nothing.

Today is my birthday and I guess I got what I wanted, which was talking to you again.

The past two years I missed having someone to talk to who cared about me, and I’m not sure if you still care, but you seemed like it because you told me, “If [I] don’t have fun tonight [you’re] going to be mad at [me].”
That was just one of the things.

Well I guess I had fun because I listened to the playlist that you made me and I talked to you.
And that’s what I wanted right?
Right.

What I didn’t want was to lie on my floor crying off and on for an hour because that playlist, a simple thing, made me so happy and so scared. I am so scared because I do not know what is happening and I am afraid it is just going to vanish before my eyes like last time.

But I’m timid and I’m shy, too shy to tell you this, too worried about how it might affect the course of events playing out, so I will just write it down here in hopes that you’ll come across it one day. I hope you do see it and take note of just how much the little things you do matter to me.

As she stares at the stars and you stare at her,
You wonder what she sees in them.
It’s the stars that make her smile like that.
You want to wash your hair with stardust,
Wear a necklace of a shimmering constellation,
Shove entire planets in your eyesockets,
And burst into a girl-supernova
So that maybe, just maybe, she will love you, too.

Sometimes I think of killing myself
How the end would be so nice
How the darkness would swallow me up
And how the numbness would suffice
My need

For all the voices of the feelings
That constantly keep me reeling
To softly slow to a hush
As my brain starts tur-tur-turning into mush

How wonderful it would be
To have that powerful silence
Not even grasshoppers would bother
To wake me

My cells would stop dividing
My brain would stop the lying
Myself would stop denying
What I truly want

But but but
This is just a reckless fantasy
A way to elude one’s own reality

Because as I sit here on the floor
Tears drip drip dropping
I realize there’s those who care for me more
Cherish me more
Love me more
Than I love my own self

The crickets chirp
I put the pills down

Once
I used to stay
on the second floor
of a worn out building
which had only half a window
and a small view of the
nearby quiet street
which had one tea stall
where worked Raju,
the boy in striped pajamas.
There wasn't a day
when he wouldn't smile
or sing his favorite
Kishore Kumar songs.
There wasn't a day
when he wouldn't get
beaten up by the owner of the shop
for breaking a glass or two
when he would bring back
the empty ones spellbound
by the tunes of Lalita aunty,
the 70 year old classical singer
living on the ground floor.
There wasn't a day
when he slept on a nice warm bed
instead of the footpath
adjoining the shop.
I would always wonder
about the secret of his happiness
and everytime I would ask him
he would laugh and tell me,
some other time.
Time passed and
I moved to another city
trying to find my peace
between changing jobs
and finding love
and all this time
I would wonder
what made Raju so happy
so one day I went back there,
handing Raju a 10 Rs. Note
and told him,
today I'm not here for the tea,
I am here for the secret.
Before Raju could say
some other time
I told him
not this time.
Raju smiled, sat beside me, and
said - "I am content with what I have. My mother loves me. I am helping my sister study to become a doctor. There's not been a day that I didn't have food to eat. I have all I need - family and love. I am sure you'll find your peace one day."
After that day,
I stopped searching for peace
in all the places it wasn't there
because it was always inside me.
I was my peace.