Airplanes // 5 march, 2019: You tell me that if I stand on your balcony all day long, I'll spot planes fly over your house every two minutes Once I wrote: "If this time love leaves an empty envelope at my doorstep I'm going to fold it into a paper plane and fly it back to you" Which is to say, Every plane you spot is an 'I-I-I-love-love-love-you-you-you' traveling at the speed of 885 km/hour looking for you Because my house is full of empty envelopes I try to write someone else's address But my fingers are immigrant in a foreign land You are the only address they have ever known So when I say home looks a lot like you It's only because my fingers don't know how to fold a memory Lock it in a suitcase before flying to some other land My father says "It's possible to learn a new language but impossible to forget one" So when I call your name at exactly 11:55 pm, it's only because I can't forget it even if I end up learning a new one Once an airline employee discovered a love letter left on an airplane **** bag by a man named Andrew It read: "I don't really know what I'm gonna say But I'm just gonna wing it. Why not? I mean I'm leaving so who cares" I AM LEAVING SO WHO CARES! I AM LEAVING SO WHO CARES! But there are days, When I wake up hoping you care if I leave, especially if I leave But leaving scares the **** out of me I can't learn it the way I can't unlearn your name So I just hope Andrew's letter grows wings, Fly over her house leaving I-I-I-love-love-love-you-you-you as trail in the sky Naybe that's why when they say, "love is in the air" I picture a lot of airplanes leaving 'I love you' as trail behind them I assume that the boy loved the girl so much that He grew wings out of it He put her up in the sky My cousin told me time is relative Which means the rate of change of time is not same for every frame of reference. In my sky, time loses its sense In my sky, you're no longer a memory I've been trying to fold You are the past, the present, the future Every time I teach my fingers how to fold a memory Love leaves a new empty envelope at my door step Someday, I'll die among these envelopes addressed to you But till then, You'll spot planes fly over your house every two minutes leaving trails in the sky // ― the boy is the airplane flying over your house.