not for you

the stars could refuse to shine for us,

destiny can turn around and walk away in disgust,

the rain can laugh and hide itself away,

the sun could continue to spit angry fire at the world, 

while the moon curses its fate,

and the trees could refuse to stop the leaves from falling.

every poet that ever existed could throw his verses out the window.

and the oceans could dry up overnight. 

the entire universe could come to a screeching halt,

but nothing can stop the flute that plays 

every time you look at me. 

a face that launched a thousand ships

*dedicated to Andrea Gibson


a thousand lines of poetry,

declaring undying love, and companionship till eternity.

gifts, small and big, thoughtfully bought

packed and given with trembling fingers.

the last penny in your pocket 

spent on a cigarette that will bring her peace

instead of dinner that will quiet your grumbling hunger. 

families torn apart, never to speak again,

backs turned on friends and well-wishers

whole lifetime of relationships brought down with a single tear. 

collectors editions of songs thrown to the trash

because she does not like jazz. 

books burned to ashes because she doesn't like unhappy endings, 

movies never watched to the end because

it was always more interesting to kiss her,

countless clothes given away because she thought 

blue was not your color. 

every pot and pan in your house washed a hundred times over

making her favorite dishes, 

hundreds of pages of homework done, aced and forgotten

who said geometry doesn't help in real life?

are we not in a triangle now, with no way out? 

everything in your power done and declared 

to make her happy, and yet

she goes on building her fort.

you say you will love her forever,

and she waits for you to realize you don't want her anymore. 

you say you will take a bullet for her,

and she waits for you to turn around and walk away. 

you say, anything to see you happy, my darling

and she waits for you to wake up and know

that she is not a happy person.

she is a poet, and a warrior, and a lover

she has love flowing through her veins, 

bleeding every fortnight because she cannot hold it all in. 

she breathes poems in and out, without thinking 

many never making it out of the tips of her fingers. 

she has war in her eyes, angry hair and flaming hips,

making a iron-clad cloak to hide her love away.

when you told her the story of helen who launched a thousand ships 

she asked you quietly 

how did they know she would not want to stay with Paris? 

Jeremy always wears black

I am trying my best to swim, 

holding my breath against the weight of the water, 

beating my hands against the fury of the dark,

my legs are struggling to push away from the horizon. 

but I can feel myself drowning. 

there's water in my lungs,

an unforgiving pain in my skull,

my veins are running for all their worth, 

knowing my blood will soon stop flowing. 

my limbs are getting tired

and my heart is in pieces,

breaking further into ash. 

I'm drowning 

and not even a Phoenix can rise

if it drowned in darkness. 

I'm drowning

and with my last dying thought,

I pray that it is not you that saves me. 

because if you do, 

I may hold on

and never let go.

cinderella

"pehle kyun na mile hum, 
tanha hi kyun jale hum" 

a hundred years will go by;
the stars will be another decade older
before they align,
and resign themselves to the fact
that not even they can bring us together.

the phoenix will die a thousand deaths,
its ashes forever believing,
until it rises to the truth
that not even lies can keep us together.

all the snow in the world
shall melt and flow into the oceans
before they scream to the rain gods for mercy.
but not even their drowning tears
can allow us another moment together.

the silence of the night fights against the dawn,
without words to cry in anger,
knowing that not even all the forgotten poetry
scribbled across pages lost in the wind,
can give us the time we've lost together.

be brave, my darling.
the only witness to our love
is a fire that burns in the sky, every day
knowing it can never be put out.

Mexico

where do you go 

to find authentic, 

unconditional 

love? 

into the drops of rain

counting each minute

till we see each other again, 

desperate, lonely, guilty and tired, 

finding solace 

only in silence. 

don't say a word,

lest I think of it, 

again.