Did you know?
How would you?
I used to think you’d be busy with something or the other
So I kept a lot of stories of mine to myself
And kept cooking up stories in my head regarding you
The storm that I had in me
The typhoons of making you feel sheltered
Loved and guarded
Have come to a standstill
I am glad that I never cultivated a habit of seeing you
In things and in other people
Because in your appreciation
You are magnificent
And I don’t want you to be anything short of the same
I don’t feel the urge to cup your face anymore or
The urge to keep staring at you
I have spent a very large fraction of the very little time we ever had with each other scanning you
You are duly copied in my memories
And the ink used is in-erasable
I have burned so much on the inside
That even if you set it on fire it would hardly make any difference because I am resistant to it
I am glad that I was raised up such that I won’t need people when the nights are cold and the days are sunny
I have seen a lot of empty hallways and have lived them all
I have been in a dark room with its door locked and just a sun lit window to stare at until the evening comes
Do you see what I am hinting towards?
I don’t believe in finding a lover but building up one
Irrespective of the place or the situation
My compassion knows no bounds
You are one of my establishments
I can’t kiss someone until it’s my own creation
But I still take a chance and regret it later for letting someone suck on my lips like a vacuum machine
What I write isn’t always something serious
You know how comic I am
Or do you?
And cynical at the same time
It’s funny how I don’t end up writing about things that killed me inside
Literally, killed me
Because I don’t want you or anyone else die of the burden that something mean they have done is kept written somewhere and would prevail for decades to come
I suggest you read this over and over again
I don’t trust the universe with us ever sitting in its vicinity and sharing a few stories of your childhood which you once mentioned you would share
This was my very affable effort to cunningly put my stories in your pocket
Take it or leave it
Who cares anymore?
Oh! See, I can also be sarcastic.