The midnight sky
is one of the best cures
for an aching soul

I can fly with birds of sorrow,
I can fly with twisted wings.
I can fly like there’s no tomorrow,
I can sing like many springs.

People are but lonely birds,
Calling, calling, to be heard,
By other birds, by anyone,
Yet each bird keeps flying on.

Not ever pausing, to stop and hear
A lonely voice, calling dear,
The voices are lost, the voices are found
In the sound of the song, the song of the sound.

But I can fly on lonely waters
And stop to sing with lonely souls,
I can linger on the frontier,
And stop to sing, all alone.

I can soar above the clouds
Watching for someone worth singing with
Watching for someone in the crowds
A singer of songs, a legend, a myth.

But the sky is still grey, so bleak and dark,
Of blackness and unwanted things,
So I fly, as lonely as a lark,
Singing alone, on whispered wings.

Mana hum saath nahi,
Toh Kya hua,
Har pal Jo sath rahe vo
Ehsaas ** tum.
Meri Zindagi ki sachayi toh nahi
Har pal Jo Naya sa lage
Vo khwaab ** tum.
Sir jhuka Kar, aankhe moond Kar
Bade shiddad se Jo mangte hai
Vo ardaas ** tum.

That same miracle,
Singing to my ears,
And there were tears,
Dripping on the shackles.

Heard it in the garden,
Somewhere on the moon,
In this quiet room,
Leaking rays of the sunlight.

Alas,
Never once I danced to it,
But my feathers were swaying,
As though grazed by the wind.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

I have kissed boys

Girls

People in between

But lately I have been kissing bottles

Their lips are colder than yours

But slowly I have realized that the pounding headache when I wake is less hurtful than the shattering in my chest

Yet as these toxins rush through my veins

I can't help but miss the tracing of your fingers along my skin

Miss the numbness of the world when you lie with me

But when I wake I remember that a headache is treated with an aspirin

While heartache

Well if you have a cure for Heartache let me know