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.
