Switch off the city lights

On the sidewalk, our shadows meet. They dance together in harmony, blending into one every once in a while as we walk side by side till it's too dark. The world fades behind us and it's just you and I.

 We lay on the sand, our arms tucked behind our head, and eyes fixated on the sky. I only look at you to say: together we can keep count of the stars.

You are them

We stress on how we want to be unique and different but all parts of our lives are led by the norms we follow. Be it in clothing, opinion, acts and behaviours. Everything you do, both you and I know you're doing it because that's what others are doing. That's what people think is right. So tell me, how different are you from them?

Unless you're willing to test the waters, neglecting what links you back and leaving it on the shore, to me, you are them.

Interfering with my rhyme scheme

You interfere with my rhyme scheme.

 I can no longer confide myself within walls of order. Like a poem; your love overflows. There are no lines and you begin to walk out, breaking all the metres. You stop at every point that should have forced you to, and there, you smile. You pass by, uncaring, to the next line. You leave out the imagery, spelling out things you should have hidden. You go on and it is getting even more disoriented. You step back, read it all, and try as you might to disassociate yourself from the poem you created.


You are being stripped away. You become as carefree as a bird and without having to spread a single wing, you are soaring up above the clouds, going higher and higher. You see doll-sized people, buildings and from where you are, it all seems funny. You laugh because it feels like you should have did it a long time ago anyway.

 You miss where you used to be but you don't want to get out of here just yet. So you stay. A wave of strange sensation hits you; slaps you hard across the face. Bittersweet. You enjoy it.

Make them dance and sway

Speak to me in a language I do not understand, make me decipher each syllabus and watch me fail. Let me struggle to catch my breath with every new word I try to utter, every sentence going above my head like moving clouds on a still day. Laugh and let me hate you for it and accuse you of not trying hard enough.

 Give music to words, make them dance and sway.

 Be my eyes, my senses. Describe what it was like when the snowflakes first hit the skin of your hands, how, at the moment, you decided to hold on to that feeling for eternity. Make me wish I had witnessed your excitement to cherish every bit of the white blanket.

 Most of all, make me want to be with you right now.