I’ll write for you in those scrambled pages, where there is no hope of jotting down my love for you. As being in love in a generation full of dishonesty is a falsehood. I may acknowledge your fears a little bit than before, and your beliefs too. You are a rare human being.
I want you to get admired and appreciated like those musings of mine. I haven’t created you but I’ve felt every bit of you in my rare existence.
I am a human who’s selective about everything, but I wasn’t specific about how I wanted you to be there in my life. Your existence meant to me like hollow space in my life filled with pleasure and accomplishment, all of a sudden.
You are my sudden beautiful happening.
I don’t have any backup plan about what I’m going to do without you. What will I do when those hands I hold in the middle of the nights disappear. When hugging you will be no more my sudden reaction to everything. My happening has an end when my head touches your shoulder. Thinking about nothing but comfort. When you caress me I feel homely. Like sitting in a chair on a Sunday morning reaching out for coffee. Have you felt that ticklish and livable at the same time?
You are my way of intoxicating through life. The way you see me with you little eyes, I haven’t seen something that could actually retain my heart every time.
Maybe I’ll put you there, so you could feel every sound that comes from my heart. Tangled together making a song I danced in when I first saw you.
My heartbeat sings for you every single time.
Having a soul which knows how to make people go, I was trying hard to let you stay. In the nights when I whined like a baby, at the beginning of my glee too. I wanted you to be there. In my destiny and my fortune.