am I a terrible person
if I knew from the first night you kissed me
my messes would be too much for you
and I let you kiss me anyways
I don't know why I get so caught up in the loss of temporary people
you knew the way I looked at midnight
eyes half open
sleepy words that only make half sense
but never why the man I call my father is a stranger
or the reason I get sad in-between the silence
I knew you wouldn't understand
if I told you I'm afraid I'll become the sum of my mistakes
so I stayed silent, simple
and I let you kiss me anyways

Yes, I do converse with all the crawling wishes that keep slamming me for never letting them stand and chase the dreams.
Yes, I do converse with all the broken dreams that linger on their shape they thought my deeds would provide.
Yes, I do converse with all the uncovered routes my feet still long to kiss.
Yes, I do converse with all the tough decisions I escaped that considered me gritty enough to not give in.
Yes, I do converse with all the choices I avoided where my soul found solace in.
Yes, I do converse with all the smiles I faked that had the elements of happiness a morsel or two.
Yes, I do converse with all the let go's that I could have stopped, grabbed, hugged and preserved, but I did not.
Yes, I do converse, and it keeps me going and it keeps me growing.
  -Aparajita Tripathi

the electricity runs through our veins
and past the street signs we rumble by
in the car you stole, we go fifty above the speed limit,
the roof of the car is the noir sky above
and the midnight rain pelts our upturned faces
the dancing drops of water drip onto our smiling lips
the sound of the sky collapsing
echoes the flashes that streak the sky,
the flickering light casts paved roads with a brief brightness
(as if god were wearing light up sketchers)
the lacy brallette that wears me
gives me the bravery to stand up in the speeding car
the velvet pants that ripple with the wind
drink up the nighttime rain
and the rare headlights race past us,
heading into homes and hearts
the mellow playlist that connects the aux cord to our ears blasts
so loud, we can no longer hear our insecurity
the mascara that once clung to my eyelashes
now streams down my face.
on a two way street,
we drive down the middle
unafraid in the face of direct dangers
so unaware of the towering empty skyscrapers
and instead highly exhilarated
from the street signs we drive by
too fast to read the blocky lettering
the road signs glint, smiling as we wave and reach towards them
the cigarettes you smoked are thrown through the open window,
still smothering slightly.
i can still taste the smoke on your lips
and your hand tucks my hair behind my ear
and as the wind objects and inhales
unreal in the hazy a.m. car trip
the tunnel rushes towards us,
and we both hold our breaths,
as if breathing would contaminate us.
the lights that glint, cast a yellow-white glow
and for once, i see you for who you are
a boy too buzzed to feel
a kid who only felt "sort of"
a person who couldn't heal
and a lover who could never give love