Call him the moon,

Then,

I loved him not

For the light he threw,

So gracefully;

But for I knew,

Of the debris,

Lying beneath

The supple ivory rays.

 

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Sing me a song,

Write me some prose;

Just prove me

That it’s not wrong,

To forgive you forth;

Assure me,

That all the tears,

Weren’t all for naught;

Just show me,

It was a friendship,

Worth fighting for…

You are like that least favorite song of mine, which sneaked in to my playlist without my consent; which I listened to only because I was too occupied in my own thoughts to skip.

With time, I began swaying to your beat and embracing your words.

With time, I learnt the depth behind your lyrics, the tenderness behind your music.

With time, I began to search for you among a bunch of songs that I believed I couldn’t live without.

With time, you began to define me and speak for me.

With time, you became more than just a song to me.