why the heart, aches
when the mind knows, the truth?
why the eyes rain
when the lips curve, into a smile?
unanswered questions
undeciphered emotions
unfathomable longings
*
i wish i was loved by a writer
for he’d interpret
my excitement in his words
he’d paint my pain
in his poetic colours
*
i wish a writer loved me
when my heart bled red
his ink would bleed blue,
when this fleshy pump
inside the skeletal cage
smelled briny,
his words would enable
the waters to spurt and flow,
*
i wish a writer loved me
when the shards of my soul
lay strewn on the floor
every alphabet trickling from his quill
would glue them
gifting me the paper wings,
a lightweight tale,
donning it I’d glide the infinite blues,
*
i wish a writer loved me
when the saturated greys
obscured my sight
his verse like the Melting Gold
evaporate each droplet
rendering my cheeks parched
yet blushing vibrantly,
*
I wish a writer loved me
immortalise my withered cells
in the crisp folds of his rusty pages
every time he brushed
his fingers on my thirsty petals
it’d rekindle my forlorn heart
with love and passion,
*
i wish a writer loved me
for at his fingertips I would rest
the keys to every secret of me
disclosing my weaknesses
trusting him, confiding in him
he would nurture my imperfections
caress my brokenness
and love the most
unlovable fractions of me!
I wish a writer loved me!💚
Pic Courtesy: Pexel
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