I hate sitting in front of a blank page with a blanker expression.
So this is what i'll do: I'm going to fill it up with you.
The one with a smile waiting to invade your face.
And a pointed chin resting on a soft fist.
You are beautiful. And you know it.
All beautiful people do.
But you're a bit different.
Your beauty transcends skin; something you may not know.
Most of your kind don't.
You make right just by being you.
You, as a person, is taken. It's you, just.
You look through stuff—unprejudiced.
Maybe because you sleep less and see more?
There's grace in almost everything you undertake.
Even the way you move your hands.
Even while sitting quietly on the corner of a bed.
Or talking with your mouth full.
You've become my favourite;
person, colour and word.
I can't be mistaken about certain things.
You happen to be one of them.
Aren't you something?
Which is why i'm tired of missing you.
I'm done with the stupid distance in between
although i'm scared of messing up.
Unfortunately, i don't know the lanes we are bound
to cover in each other's company.
Fortunately, you don't know how to swim hence
you can only sink further into me.
For good or for worse, I won't be empty anymore.
You will complete me.