Stop when she tells you to.
Talk when she tells you to.
Embrace when she tells you to.
Caress when she doesn't tell you so.
Is it that complicated?
Caring for a self-loathing caterpillar.
A drop of rain that made her so happy,
A flash of thunder she wasn't afraid of,
Every parting airplane she bid goodbyes to,
Every dirty animal she turned to see,
Was she kind then?
A heart she ached to heal,
A heart caught in her feel,
Each heart that begged her late night words,
Each face slapped by her,
Was she cruel then?
Little Sugar and little spice,
Heart sunk in ice.
Little bitter and little sweet,
Loitering around like a child's feet.
Despite all the "no",
Does she mind warm hugs?
Only if someone returned her stupid gestures.
Despite all the while being "ugly",
Does she mind hyperbolic phrases?
Only if someone knew her deep enough .
The caterpillars are always so shy,
Clumsy and idiots,
Happy with little food,
Too happy on being fed.
Sad love ballads on every page you see,
Otherwise scribbles of her own bits and pieces,
Why does it hurt, who knows?
Everywhere she sees, everyone see meets,
Is so wrong wrong wrong.
No utopia unfolds ever.
Who knows what happens to all those social caterpillars?
YOU ARE READING
Raw Spectrum & Me
Şiir[Previously known as 'From Me to You' ] The things probably I'll never say to someone, some people who hold special places. Feelings left unconveyed. But true nevertheless. All Love poetries in one way or other ;3 in various forms. Be it positive or...
