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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, trust and him


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