Saturday, August 27, 2016

Writer's love

Don't make a writer fall in love with you.
For the writer's love is unconditional.

Don't let them fall for you, if you haven't got the strength to live with them forever.

Don't, because after years, when you will believe you've left the memories far behind;    
You will find yourself in some book,
described by the thread of words.
Your smile and your laughter inscribed with proper commas in some paragraph.
The path of your stream of tears flowing down your face, the curl of your lips, the shade of your eyes, your careless blabbering during anxiety and chirpy annoyance when happy.

They will haunt you with their pen describing every thought you shared, every promise you broke.
The jokes you made, the laugh you had, Every castle you built together and every war you won.

After you've done messing with them, they'll remind you of your cringes with every minute detail possible.
They'll remind you of your first meeting, how u wanted them at first sight. The feeling of butterflies in the stomach and how with every passing minute it resides.

Don't make a writer fall in love with you, for a writer's love is irreplaceable.

They will display every memory, happy or sad. They will let you remember what you had.

And then they will make you realise how foolish you were to leave them behind.
And finally you'll regret not falling in love with the writer, who knew every deep detail of your flaws yet loved you so profoundly.

Love Story

The way his lips curled while grinning;
The way he giggled under his breathe, on her stupidity.

The way he would handle her solicitude;
The way he would understand her serenity.

The things he would say on wretched days to make them better;
The way he would embrace her imbecility.

His dreamy eyes, Ecstatic visions, Mysterious momentum.
His Astounding intellect, Alluring charisma.

The way she would admire him,
The way she would scribble him through her words.

The way she would love everything about him;
The way her glittering eyes would notice his every muscle move.

The night they would stay awake listening to their heartbeats.

Their silly conversations; random encounters, serendipitously
Awoke a love story.