you're simple and tepid like love is, a cold breeze of perseverance holding calm in its captivity, flowing whimsically in the fields of bliss. i'm happy and lucky like a four leaf clover is, a hopeful tenant residing in your homely monastery, pirouetting to the soothing cadence of your burning love.
you're the brevity of words that breathes silently between the verses of my proses and the thought that winds up in the corners of their minds, after the readers are done savouring my poems. you're the muse every poet dreams of and the dream every person wishes for, lying in their beds before they both slip into a sleep.
you're a placard of strength and valor; you hold your ground when dark clouds hover over our heads. you don't fear of the thunder that's on its way to greet us both, you stare right back into the eye of the storm wearing a bright smile and make all the gloomy clouds disappear, paving a clear way for sunlight to pecker on our faces.
you're the oracle of luminance, since you have a clear vision of what hides behind the many doors of my heart. you label each door based on the beats you measure when you call my name out. you study me wisely like im an eyeful figurine, you glue together my broken parts and reform me into an alluring manikin. you have a map of my heart memorised in your mind, you know the place to its very nook and cranny, till wherever your voice has reached out. you know where to search for me when im far gone.
you're a headband of hope; when odds don't favour you, you cease to relinquish and make the best out of the lemons life throws at you. im a lemon which was flung at you by life and you caught in your soft palms and made a lemonade out of me. you carved out a beautiful meaning out of my hopeless existence.
and me, i was a sunflower with dirt smudged all over its body, growing inversely in the nursery of melancholy. you plucked me from the ground and tucked me behind your ears gracefully, making my withering soul breathe with a blossoming hope again. you made me seem like a beautiful flora with handsome leaflets when my torned out petals reeked of grotesque, i was resting in the wrong garden all this time as i was weary of hope and joy, but now im blooming alongside your beauty.
ykkk ive written like a 100 posts for her and they all arent as good as this. theyre simple posts with simple lines but i love all of them. coz i was really really happy at the time i wrote them.
bluebirdI think I understand. I don't write that often because I'm afraid how every word I'll ever write will be for him and nothing else. It's hard to not write about happiness when it comes to you like nothing else matters.