Two Poems

by Arushi Rege

everything is more beautiful because we are doomed

everything is more beautiful because

we are doomed. because

underneath the fluorescent street lights we

both know the world is ending we

both see the signs because

the sun looks dark and

the sky is gray, but not

the gray that happens when

the beaches you liked,

the ones in california, monterey bay, are

stormy and the clouds look

as though they’ve taken pride

in covering the sky except

you hold me now, under

this streetlight, and tell me

that you love me in the same way as

a the neighborhood song sounds and

i’ve never had the courage to tell you that

you are pretty boy, or cherry-flavored, or

most importantly, you are

reflections, because every time i

look anywhere, or think of anything you

are there somehow but here,

under these streetlights, i

can pretend that the world isn’t

ending the way it is because

you are holding me close and

kissing me straight on the lips, and

sometimes i worry that i’ll forget this, but

babe, if we’re doomed here, i

just wanted you to know that

you have never looked more beautiful to me,

because you are pretty boy and cherry-flavored

and most importantly, reflections, but

darling, here under this streetlight, i

don’t think i’ve ever seen you look more

beautiful, because i don’t know if i’ll

see you tomorrow, but i want to

immortalize you in my mind, so that

i know that you’re still here and i’ll still love you

because you look beautiful tonight, and

i know its weird that i think you’re beautiful

not when we’re being romantic,

but when we’re being frantic because we’re

going to die but everything, my love,

is more beautiful because we are doomed and

you’ve never been more beautiful as

you are now.

in which my deepest fear is to fail

you, as the seasons change / if you stop affecting others / do you cease to exist? / he once asked me what i would do / if i lived forever / i told him i would / try to die / after all, what else is there left to do / breathe in / breathe out / try to live again / fail / pick up / “im sorry, the number you have dialed can’t come to the phone right now. please leave a message” / take another dose / try not to get high / fail / try not to cry / fail / try not to die / fail / repeat steps one to four / all’s fair in love and war / maybe this is just war / ripping my heart open for the greater good / when he tells me that my hatred is underestimated / hidden behind pretty smiles / pretty body / pretty words / my hatred is a disease / i ask him / what do i do when my hatred is gone / where do i leave my hands?

Arushi (Aera) Rege is a queer, Indian-American poet who simultaneously attends junior year in high school. In their free time, they compete in speech and debate, stress over college, and attempt to be a normal teenager. They tweet occasionally @academic_core and face the perils of instagram @aeranem_26.