Somewhere in me
there exists a being
made up of all the reasons
that insist me
to stop loving you.

At times when I ignore it
and instead look away
towards you
It stares me hard,
starts blabbering abuse
as I keep looking at you.

But at the end of the day
when I am home,
heart-broken
by your indifference,
it reaches me back
wipes my tears
and puts me to sleep
in a blanket of lessons.

That being,
made of reasons.

Life descends,
not in thunder storms
or lashing rains
of passion

but in gentle drizzle
of bliss and purity.

perhaps,
I’d be gazing the horizon
perhaps,
You’d walk towards me
perhaps,
I’d miss a few heartbeats
perhaps,
I’d avert my eyes to catch a li’l breath
perhaps,
We’d hold hands for the first time..
perhaps,
the waves would slowly touch our feet
perhaps,
wind’d be messing up our hair
perhaps,
we’d try to take it all in
perhaps,
You’d say you went to come back
perhaps,
You’d have come back,
forever….
perhaps,
it’d seem like a happily ever-after
perhaps,
I’d be writing a poem for you
perhaps,*
after yet another pang of longing!

I had to write it
right then
nothing would stop the flow
out of my mouth
whirlpools of imagination
my vision drenched with words
running over and over the brim
it was pouring out
spilling onto the floor
puddles at my feet
find me a pen
I need a pen
write it write it out
on the back of napkins
scraps of paper
margins
envelopes
skin
write it while the river flows
while the deluge pours
while the words still make scense
find me a pen
I need to write
I will never remember it the same way
the same way it saturates my clothes
my skin
panic and euphoria
fear and excitement
write it out
write it out
find me a pen
before it's too late
before it's gone