Maybe this is how it is,
Running slow, then faster,
Often unwillingly,
Watching the blue sky,
Shift colours, as I stare,
Falling for every shade,
From black to white,
Not in love.
What I learn is what I am,
Alone.

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The silence between us, haunts me sometimes, it's not romantic or awkward, it just feels like a scary manifestation of my insecurities.

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I think you're strong, you're calm, you're deep, stormy within, and breezy to the world, to fight with self, to win sometimes, to lose sometimes. I think you're perfect.

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The thunderstorm they bought into my peaceful, calm, and quiet life, made me realise, how many broken branches, old leaves and abandoned spider webs I had, which were yet to be shaken off. Now that they've happened, I feel new, I feel lighter, I feel myself, I feel happy to see myself evolving, randomly, but it's not just the boring static anymore. I feel I'm alive.

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Some people change you into an entirely different person. Mine was a cat.

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You fall in love and then drag yourself up out of it.

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Numb to the emotions
I once embraced,
I'm happy often,
but it feels odd.
It's strange and strange,
And nothing's wrong.

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I know you're going through a lot, it's just sad that we don't know how to talk.

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I wonder how, when and where as well,
I'll confess the fact,
that i fell in love the moment I saw you,
that I've been in, since that moment onwards...
It's something like finding the longer side of a square blanket, on a cold and dark night,
I'm confused, annoyed, lonely, cold, and yet hopeful.

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Broken I lie,
Gathering the pieces of self,
Moulding it back,
Getting better at sculpting, as I fall apart over and over again.

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