Dear you,


Dear you,

I met a boy today,
He tells me he likes me.
I snicker and I look away.

“That’s not a very cheerful smile”, he says.

Probably not,
But he doesn’t know that I am acquainted with those words a lot.

“I like your smile” to “I like your company”
“I love the way you make me smile” to “I love you…”
Well, that escalates quickly.

and yet here I am,
pleased to hear those words again,
like music to my heart
At least till it kills my auditory art!



Dear you,

I admit it,
I like all the casual attention and flirting
From men at my office while working.
They are sweet enough to fight for a spot near my desk

It makes me smile,
makes me think about you,
And makes me wish
If you would’ve fought for a spot in my life too.



Dear you,

My father talks about marriage to me,
tells me I need to find a “better half”,
that I cannot spend my entire life alone, you see.

But, what his knowledge does not tell him
is that I am not alone,
that you tought me to live with myself every time you made me wait at the bar counter, at the coffee shop, at the movies, at my phone,
longing to see your name flash on it.


Dear you,

I am tired of wishing that you would’ve stayed longer.
I am tired of decoding all the troubles that we anchored.
I am tired of love being such a failure.

Hence, I write of you,

My dear dear one, I write of you to let my heart know
that you are already dead to me, to even let you go.


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