I keep conversations unfinished because they give me hope that we could finish them someday.
Things don't remind me of you anymore and I don't know if its good or bad.
Insomnia is the revenge of all the things we ignore in the daylight.
Being intelligent is a double edged sword.
If I take a paper and write a poem for you,
Would you promise me that you'll love forever?
But what about the poems that I wrote about you?
The thought of the person you love, not choosing you is dooming.
I'm irritated by the fact that you start books but never finish them because you believe the story is so good that it shouldn't end.
Maybe it's the ink that is sad, not me.
I will let you down someday, but I would do anything to pick you back up because that's what love is.
There are poems written on my tongue which only you could read.
-Priyesh, "Random Lines I Write in the Middle of the Night."
