You have thought but couldn’t write
I have written but couldn’t think
The paranoia of imbalance and its inelastic discomfort
Obliged me to decompose my heart
But I really wanted to feel
I become weary and regretful of my past
Your aura makes me realise the rest
I was into a dilution of enigma, that dragged me in haste
To succumb my senses
A lot of memory without a description
A lot of sound without velocity
I am not a betrayer at my will
I love to keep but I dislike to steal
Unlike you who know me more than I do know myself
You conveyed through silence, the fictitious flamboyance
that I possess
I agree with innocence
Perhaps a day or two, when I become mature, when I become
like you
My words will utter, my silence will speak too
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