I’d like to believe -
that meeting you was fate
that it wasn’t just a deranged connection, nor will it ever be a coincidence of sorts.
to me, you’re unlike any other.
a human version of a peaceful abode -
a place where I can rest my mind against yours,
where I can be surrounded by the breeze of your thoughts and wisdom,
where every story you tell me is like an age-old letter kept in the crevice of the walls
untouched,
perfectly enveloped.
How is it that, amidst a sea of wandering minds you find a mind that wants to wander yours?
How is it that even when you’re not seeking change in your mundane life, change is what you embrace?
You make me realise that love is easy, that it’s not rocket science and it isn’t complicated,
That we tie ourselves up in difficult knots
and that love is simply as easy as it sounds
To me, you’re familiar
a past life, a divine intervention or probably a second self as you call it
And you make me believe in you, have faith in you, remember you, protect you, keep you close
You make me want to read you and learn you and annotate you
with my silly stickies and neon pens and my flowers,
they’ll always always belong to you
Somedays, your sweet words ask me to write you a poem
about the whirlwind my life is right now
and I want to tell you about it,
about how on days when I’m walking the streets of this unfamiliar city
and I look back-
I don’t see the traces of my footprints.
when I come back home
exhausted from the weight that my shoulders could ever uphold
I find no feather of tranquility to tickle me out of weariness.
When my unhinged, running at 3000 thoughts per second brain
seeks frantically, a resting ground
It is only ever stomped on with battering noises and formalities
But how do I tell you that I can endure a lifetime of lonesome dreary days like these
If it means that every night, without fail
the warmth of your pacific voice would caress my soul,
That the only thing worth thinking about
Is the idea of your presence around me, even in spirit
That on some level, I’ve imagined a world that lives in my head entirely built by you
The expanse of the deserts, poetry for streets, walking on water, monuments for homes and you, just you.
but how do I tell you?
Sometimes I feel stuck between the layers of the sky
A void, nothingness
The clouds below, the space above.
It’s like I’m floating in mid air, and at times I like it that way
But I know that eventually I need my ground to steady me
To let gravity pull me down with all its might, as it should -
But when I put my weight on the earth
Where do I go? and to whom?
I find myself in an endless loop of uncertainties
Almost as if I’m stranded on a desert of yearning and longing
and your embodiment is simply a mirage.
falling in and out of the abstraction of us
Sometimes I read in between the lines
I find urgencies in your words, as if you’re reaching out
And maybe you are, but how can I know for sure
So I sit still, with your mind and my heart -
I sit still and let your words consume me endlessly
I think holding on to hope, helps
& I think if I hold on to it like the way that I do,
I think you won’t be so far away from me
that your spirit will finally take shape
that it’ll finally have eyes to hold my gaze
that it’ll finally have strength bigger than mine to carry my being
but until then,
I’ll sit silently with my arms stretched out towards the green haze
the only ray amidst the darkness looming over my life.
I write these words just for me.
to question my mind and its ability to believe
in the right things at the wrong time
or the wrong things, every time?
And at times, I even question my beating heart
to believe in everything, every time?
But more often than not,
I find myself frazzled with the constant interrogation
leaving no space for respite
