A drop of me falls on your leaves, falls from your leaves. The rain of love finds you again even if it is without me. The ground of reality hits me again, asking me to give you up. It tells me that if I wait enough, wait long enough I will find you. And by finding you only I will be ruined.
There is something about this life. This life with you that makes me feel guilty. It is the life that I am not supposed to be in. I feel like I am trespassing and any moment someone would catch me for asking and taking more than I deserve for thinking of a possibility of happiness with you.
The tissues I have cried into are my excuses, to hide the clutter of calls and love I forgot to return. Sometimes it is too late to clear the mess I made. It is more difficult to retain my will to clean it all up, which sort of made me guilty of creating another sad person. But what is another tissue in another sea. Everyone dreams of sailing into a brighter morning leaving behind their darkness in another’s mind. What if I am as selfish as them. What is another ship, another selfish wish amidst thousand such others- all stranded on a water-less heart all looking for a flood, instead of directions.
My night melts into dreams of you and even when I loose my dream I loose my sleep, the night stays with me. The broken strand of hair on my shoulder could have been your tear if it had not passed through this night I live with, if it was not born in the fragile dream that you are.
I am tempted to walk into the night and look for you who has always stood on the other side of my fear, waiting for me everyday, carrying a flower of hundred petals petals that wither one by one like the clock that marks days not hours, days that otherwise would have been too long if something didn’t tell us again and again that not much time has passed and not much time is left. Though by the waters of sorrow that reach till my chest, I can tell that it would be too late and too futile even if we meet now, when all the happiness that we came with has been spent by our imprudent youth. But still even if it is late I want to come to you, Even if I am broken I want to be yours. Even if for a day.
The moon shines in my tear lined eyes. On the edges of my nails that have lost their color. Tonight once again light falls on only on those bits of me that are in no need for the love of a neutral god.