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Jun 2015
She was just walking by,
Walking by the street, At night.
With her messy hair, Smudged eye,
Unbalanced walk, And blurred sight.

Not romantically,
But she'd have fallen on her face.
If he was not walking on the same lane.
This story would have been the same,
If in her eyes, He wouldn't have seen the pride in pain.

Few nights went by,
Him thinking of her blackened eyes.
And she?
She happy in her world of pride and lies.
He waiting for her on the same way.
And she?
Shen shivering somewhere on the month of may.

Months later,
On a cold night, On the same street.
She came swaggering, Firm on her feet.
He stopped and told her,"Hey you look pretty and better."
She after a sly smile, Replied,
She was high on *******
The last time he met her.

She asked "Would you mind joining me?"
Joining me for a walk.
He was already halfway,
Before he would have asked "What?'

She kept talking, laughing and talking.
And he kept asking, listening and asking.
On the way, They departed,
She turned around smiled and left.
He smiled back, Walked away,
Layed on his bed and felt.
Felt the truth in her lies,
And the heaviness in her smiles.
When she told him about her *******,
He thought of those shining eyes.

He smiled and remembered,
How he thought she was insane,
Crazy about her human *******.
How he asked if he could help,
And how with rudeness she replied,
I need HIM more than myself.

After that night,
He could not take her off his mind,
Her eyes, Her walk and her laughs.
Where as,
She tried to recall his name,
That as always she forgot to ask.

He often went back to that street,
In a hope to see her and ask.
If they could be friends,
And walk together through the dark.
If he could just be with her,
Without any demand and question mark.

She never went back to the lane,
As if she knew he would be waiting.
She never tried remembering his name,
She rather kept drinking, smoking and writing.

Going sane and insane,
In Love and hate with her *******.
Her human *******.
Malika Amatya
Written by
Malika Amatya  Nepal
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