when his eyes stare in the distance of one kiss
where giggles vibrate through our hot breath
is the moment eternal happens between us

I still think about you
deep brown eyes so dark,
beautiful, the kind you can lose
yourself in, and I guess I really did


Then remember
about how you lied
when you murmured
the heart stopping words

I love you
my green eyes
intense on yours,
believed every word

Now I'm alone, and feeling
lost and she's with you, hearing the
same empty promises I did not long ago,
but now I know not to trust the brown eyed boy

Too many birds call in the morning.
Refuse to know their name
and then, nothing matters.

A rockslide slides up
a mountain and
down your throat-

can't breathe
when the airs so thin
you'd think the trees stopped giving oxygen

Aspens stand
and spit out
too tall for their kind.

A schoolgirl, if you will,
in a fluid dress with fluent hair,
long, she’s probably blond
if we’re being honest,
and the dress is yellow too.
She hopes it is bright enough
to distort her vision.

She leaps in the rain,
but the water beads right
off her skin
long as she keeps her eyes down.

Moths swarm and settle
in her hair, mistaking it
for some sort of sunsilk.

It is the silk of her cocoon.

When she comes out
later, she sheds it all
with scissors.

Soon as the silk breaks
the water spills into her
but her lungs barely even whimper;
she has suffocated before,
and it hasn’t killed her yet.
People are waterproof;
water beads on skin.
It’s the dress they want her in
that makes the rain so public
and clingy.

But all the moths have drowned.
She kneels down,
bare knees on the concrete,
and picks up a wing
and lets it drifts to the ground.
Limp, listless flight,
more gentle than ever
the moths were in life.

The girl now
stomps on the wing,
scolding herself under her breath
just quiet enough to forget
that she is alive.
Like a knife she twists her heel
and rips the waterlogged wing
into fractals of nothing.
She knows there are some things
she should never find beautiful,
like death,
or girls.

The sun catches her fallen hair.
With fingers that boil
it offers her molten gold
as compensation for the world.

Don't let this blue sky in my eyes fool you
There's thunder in my heart
Lightening in my lungs
Rain pours in sheets from fingertips
That long to soak the thirsty plains of your skin

In a world so crude and corrupt,
Our expectations are usually crushed, as people tend to be abrupt,
Who is there to look upto, in time of calamity and dire need?
They are the country's hope, uprooting all it's weeds

Army, a word that's short, yet demands respect,
From them, you can always expect,
Our lives, for them, are of greater significance than their very own,
Their brilliance and commitment are such, their every sacrifice is mourned

Days and weeks without food, water and family,
Be it a festival or a Sunday, they are never free,
They are answerable to none, for they are justice redefined,
For the country, they are equal to gods, never undermined

Pay your respect to the soldiers of fortune, stand tall and salute,
Let the patriotism flow within you, like the notes from a flute