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Who Are You.?

At this time in my life, I wasn’t longing for any attachment; having sex was my last desire. Seeing any girl wasn’t a wish I held. But now, I think of you as a thought stuck in my subconscious. Somehow, that hug calms the chaos. The relief I feel is like the initial ease of pain before it begins to hurt.

The touch, those lips, that taste, your scent, those eyes, your body, your laugh—your name, is all crafted. Trust me, how is it even possible that someone can be this perfect? What did he have to sacrifice to make you? He can’t create anything so beautiful without destroying another. I used to wonder why God chose green above all other colors. How could He overlook the rest? But then I saw your green eyes, and I understood—this must be one of His greatest masterpieces. For your laugh, there should be millions of birds and waterfalls worked together to make the sound I get to hear.

That kiss—if I say it could be someone’s dying wish, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration. The touch of yours is the dew that petals feel. How am I able to experience all of this?

Is it all bad? Like all the other times when i see me falling apart.? Are these hallucinations? Will I wake up later and realize it was mere a dream? A dream that i suppressed for years? How could my dreams have been so vivid? Where am I? Who are you? What is this all about?

What are you.? A hope that i strangled myself long ago.? A wish I used to wish for. Some words I used to whisper—did the universe whisper them to you too? Are you the magic I was asking for? Are you the answer to my doubt that he ever listened to what I asked for? Are you the mystery of my curiousness that the universe hears? What did you heard.? Why doesn’t it make sense, yet I long to understand?

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