By Priyanshi Ahuja
She has eyes like the warmth of cracking flames on a cold winter morning,
Fierce, powerful, intimidating yet welcoming.
Eyes as black as the knights that ride to darkness's calling.
That slowly drowned me into they're vast void oceans, falling.
Made my heart beat in sync with a burning devotion.
And her laugh is something I've never beheld before.
The peaceful, dynamic rush of a carving river, shaking to the core.
The pure bliss of a newborn child, enamoured by life, begging for more.
The pitter-patter of rain on a prison's window.
A way for the chained soul to silently escape to a surreal meadow.
And beneath lies a perplexing mind,
One with trapdoors, chains, tangled, hidden twines,
Made of thoughts like the cold wind brushing against your gentle cheek.
A never ending maze on a still, eerie, beautiful night, not bleak.
Inside which, I can see, dark and light, in the same realm.
And when I see that face, no motion, the ringing grows, stopping.But not her
And when my soul hears her name, all the screams, silence, a blur.
The explosions, butterflies, fireworks behind my eyes. Screech, boom, flutter.
But to her, I'm any other, any other in the room.
But she'll realize what she does to me soon.
She'll see that the person under this carefully crafted shell is gay.
Maybe, someday, oneday.