The sunlight often goes unnoticed

Fricked out by the yellings of the head
And tantrums of the heart
She went to girl who knew all of her
All of her
Like when she gets mad of happiness
Like when she gets mad of sadness
Like what her taste buds crave the most
Like who is closest to her lungs
Like who is most important to her

Walking the lane to her
She came across a phrase
"The best is to be his last."
But when it begins
They say
"First is not forgettable."
Besides for the feeling being confusing
People make a hell out of it
Of course it has alot of tantrums like the small kid
Of course it demands without throwing logics
But it never happens that you don't try to understand it
You do.
May be on time
Or
Late after it has happened to you
So why say head isn't involved there

Until you are breathing
Until you can feel the sun and the moon
Both the head and heart are well aware of each other
Sometimes the heart gives up to the brain
Sometimes the brain to the heart
It always does
Like you do to fit in this world

Admist all of these choas
She was sitting besides her
It all starts with illogical talks
To the main point
And ends to stress lines laughing on the two
"It's always mutual, that holds meaning."
Was what the girl believed.

"But, it's isn't about a future together
It isn't of him feeling the same for her
Things never happened to bring them together
They always were two different individuals
Standing apart
Gazing the same moon
And admiring the same sun in the Winters.
It's just about holding him until the unexpected farewell
It's just about being someone to bring him back when he is smiling with stress lines.
It's about being one to whom he can cry with no fears of being judged for his broad shoulders shedding tears."
It's all about for him being safe.
Because until you get someone to run into
Be someone's reason of smile for no reason."

Comments

The shying words

How do you believe the moon isn't whispering your stories to someone aren't the chance of him whispering it to some writer high May be one of the reasons why you related to the story yesterday on Netflix May be that's how your crushes end up in your favorite color today May be that's how you cleared the interview today How do you know the moon isn't working on his script with your lines If you can believe someone that far How do we end up doubting the skin and flesh besides and around us If we don't hold expectations and grudges when it comes to him Why wonder for years over a message that din come through I don't understand how we whisper our secrets to the mountains and the sea but fear of losing them against the people we breathe with How do we trust the living forms breathing without the flesh over the living we can touch and feel How do I trust the paper with my words and strangers with my smiles With every question I pen I end of writing hope, belief, ...

Meeting a boy

I ask mom can I go out with him, she says no in blocks caps and everything to make it loud enough So that I don't try to convince her I ask mom if I can go out with her As first like always she says no, but after 2 or 3 attempts She is fine with the plan I wonder what is the difference May be she thinks The she I would be hanging out with Won't hug me Or kiss me Or put her arms around my waist Or on the shoulders Or come close enough to increase my heart beat Or hold my hands and walk around Or bring me flowers and chocolates and gifts Or take me on a dinner date Or for lunch Or for a date just with a cup of tea and lots of eye to eye talking and so much of silence But we will be together all this while But aren't there chance of me falling for a girl But aren't there chance of the boy not liking me and just coming to say hi and a bye And everything in between it will be about the job and family we both are living with in those four walls...

Fears, are real!

All the fears are real People falling While walking While dancing While just standing still While looking at someone Failing In the exams With the expectations Of yours And your loved once And the strangers Growing In love Out of love Getting old With lessons With scars With open wounds Being stuck On page for hours and weeks In life for years and years With people till the end In thoughts of your own and the others too. With a blank full of ink but still not working Many others like People giving up on you People not fighting for you You not able to find the old you You missing yourself While you stand before the mirror With blank thoughts Like standing in a room On your own shadow Everyday at certain hour of the day All that you fear is happening is someday We just need to breathe through it Crying, yelling, laughing or just sitting through it Or just walking past it.

Blissfully inhaled and exhaled

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