Will and Would.

I chose to write about you and the song to listen along is an interesting choice. 'Cigarette Burns' held me through times of disappointments, I would put it on repeat and listen to nothing else. The singer's sharp voice was like a lullaby that put my anxieties to sleep. Is that what you do to me? Get rid of my unrest and frivolous mind and bring in peace, which is hard to find by myself.

The reason behind me writing has to do with choosing sides. Which side I want to be in and whether I want to be there with you. I think of a physical and mental space with-out you. What will I miss, what do I love and how will I be.


I will miss the way your fingers trace my body with a romance infused scientific curiosity. Anatomic fascination that fills my skin with sensations of adoration. Your rather rough fingertips slowly walking over the bones and joints of my hands and legs. I will miss your touch.

I will miss your lips. They taste homely and strangely familiar, not like entering uncharted grounds but familiar warm abode of affection. It's not because I am now accustomed to them, they have felt so since the very first kiss. And how I remember it, with hints of alcohol and coziness.

I will miss finding corners through the intimate and mobile space we already occupied. When standing on red-lights meant stealing kisses. Traffic signals would turn into painful and nostalgic pauses without you.

I will miss conversations. Words exchanged through mediums and times, throughout years and days. I will miss not knowing how time is treating you and that I would no longer be a catalyst or an alteration, reduced down to an observer.

I will miss being warm and comforted enough to fall asleep in your presence.


How will I be..


I would feel less guilty. Otherwise guilty for taking too long to take a side or decision, for keeping you for only me when I didn't know what I really wanted.

I would be miserable for some time. And wash away all modes of contact, I might even begin to hate you because then forgetting is bitter and not excruciatingly painful. Talk about you with my girlfriends and find flaws which were never there.

I would wait for time to pass. To find someone new, someone who would not remind me of you. But that hard work would fail miserably, though I will keep moving on wondering if you were as lost as me.

I would probably find peace, even if after a decade. When I will see you being with a deserving lover. Who won't dwindle and run, who would walk arm in arm with you as convincingly as I wished I could. Someone with whom I won't be thought of and probably with many such moments, you would forget me and be happy.

I would write of you, like I am doing now. And would even dedicate my first anthology to you because you helped me find my voice and no artist to could ever pay that debt. Every sentence that doesn't destine to be a poem, will resonate of your presence in my words.



Thinking now, I wonder why am I even doing this. What do I need to achieve and do I really need to walk in one specific direction. I guess yes, because it's not fair to you. It's not fair to keep you in this void of scared loving and lapses of courage. The love I have will last, and tell me my love how necessary is this choice? And how will it be if I never end up choosing?