One January dawn traversing through the haunted mountains he pointed at the heart in his chest and begged,
Said he has been trying to free it, unravel it and disentangle it from the fetters of the normalcy
And he wept holding his knees close to his mouth in the deserted lanes of the city he died in
And you are in the same lanes trying to find your way out of the never-ending spirals
Sunlight and lavender.
You soak your bruised skin in it in hopes that you will feel better
Do you?
We’ve been taught to hate
This is not love and this is not accepted.
They stop holding hands when they see strangers eyeing their every movement,
The boy who loved a boy doesn’t smile anymore
He lives four lanes away and he stays with doors shut,
Four walls collapsing in on him,
They’ve filled our mouths with their unholy prayers
And told us that we don’t belong
They told us that the universe regrets us.
He murmured his secrets to the cobalt sky and in hushed whispers he accepted who he was
“We are teenage tragedies”, he cried,
Our mouths full of unsaid lamentations
They mourn the deaths of children we could never be.
He sees the prayers and hopes in his mother’s folded hands
In his father’s hopeful eyes
“we will not be accepted’
And he could swear that he has seen ghosts.
The boy with tired hopeful eyes, he moves like winters falling on the trees like he’s full of abrasions,
He talks about golden towers and gasoline and roses
He says it burns a little more everyday
And he crawls in the mist-dumped evergreens and he grins at this foreign feeling making a home in him.