Tag Archives: love

Ever since the day love left me,
I’ve left love chasing, content to just stare at
Two people in love from the outside,
While inside, wondering if I would find it’s touch again.
Again, I Dream about love, I dream about the imperfect but cute love we used to share, we care still about each other, at least that’s what we tell each other but honestly, it hurts me a little every time I talk to her and have to stop myself from calling her Baby.
Maybe, love was what I needed then,
When, I finally stopped looking for it, was too exhausted to look for it, I saw it walking into the school gate in grade 8, or maybe it was 9, but looking back at that moment it still ages like fine wine when I look back on it.
I promised myself to not write on love anymore since people in love have written about it galore, and therefore, I would not write about it, because I was out of it.
I’m still out of it.
Sometimes, just sometimes I still think I haven’t recovered from the last time, maybe that is my crime for which I do time by not finding love while looking for it all the time.
I don’t know why I rhyme.
I decided for myself that rhyme, rhymed too much, timed too much and it bound me into something I could never either fully myself comprehend or make others comprehend,
My friend, if you asked me what rhyme was, I couldn’t tell you, and you would wonder why I called myself a poet,
So it, was and is a surprise to me that I rhyme like I rhyme right now,
Somehow, the night breaks all the promises I made to myself,
Making me rhyme for the umpteenth time, and since I write about love,
I wonder if there is a force above, feeding me these lines or if I write them on my own,
Alone, in my bed or on my study table,
Writing for me, but not really,
Daily, trying to write just to stay sane,
So that my brain does not ingrane,
In me that I will always be alone.
I ramble as I talk about love, because I remember what it used to be, but I don’t know what it is.
I remember it used to make me happy while making me dizzy,
It making me smile while keeping me busy,
I break all the rules writing this because
It’s the middle of the night, and I write,
While I rhyme, I think it is that time for me to stop looking for love.
But love never stops coming.
It never stops loving.
It sends you new ways like new friends,
Or the opportunities to reconnect with the old ones,
The old suns, under which you used to laugh.
I keep searching for love, still.
I try to hear what I remember it sounds like,
But years of poetry tells me it sounds and looks different every time I get it.
And every time I get it, I get it for a different purpose, which I do not know or do not understand.
But you, dear reader, should understand that even if you’re being told what it sounds like, you should listen to it and for it, because it might sound like love sometimes.
And if you hear it, move towards it.
Because it is beautiful, as much as inside as it is from afar.
And this, is the promise of a poet, who has touched it before.