𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝑰

On the quiet rituals of loving someone

𝑾𝒂𝒔 𝑰 𝒂 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎

𝑶𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆?

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𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔,

𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔,

𝑰 𝒃𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖.

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𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒆;

𝑰 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆.

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖

𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒌𝒆𝒑𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒖𝒔𝒚 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒖𝒆.

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒆𝒎 𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒆.

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒆𝒔,

𝑺𝒐 𝑰 𝒉𝒊𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐.

𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐.

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒆,

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆.

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𝑾𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆,

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒖𝒕𝒆?

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆.

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒆.

𝑾𝒂𝒔 𝑰 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒄𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒚𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒆?

~ 𝑺𝒚𝒆𝒅 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒓𝒂

Behind The Poem

We are surrounded by masses.

What makes that person different from them all?

The way they talk or the way they hear ,

The way they move or the way they carry themselves, the texture of their skin,

Those dimples when they smile, that takes away your sight , the way your name leaves their voice.

Is it?

Wrong.

It's your love for them.

It doesn't need a single more drop of anything. Love is complete on its own.

Shallow are people.

They touch a soul, learn the way it breathe, yet fail miserably to make it feel seen.

How many lilies have we bowed to prove our love?

When did love teach us to abandon one thing in pursuit of other?

We tend to leave the things we cherish, For the one we cherish the most.

And when that world breaks,

We struggle doing the most unconscious—

Breathing.

Forgetting something we never learnt ,

You love a thing,

And say you care.

Is your care merely a stare?

Why don't your hands move in accord with your surreal tongue?

The promises are spoken,

Yet your hands never know what to follow,

That's why I hid the shoes you so lovingly cared .

In devotion, I offered sweetness And you knew not how to carry it,

As we fail to carry what doesn't belong to us.

To be loved and to love are both different universes , some lives are made to be the latter one, and they end up being the latter one.

Maybe that's what devotion does.

It doesn't ask

To be chosen.

It quietly forgets

It was worthy

Of choosing itself.

𝑴𝒂𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒆𝒙𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆.