I wanna be in love I wanna know what love feels like I wanna feel what love sounds like I wanna write poetry about him which makes his spine shiver and makes him think about the art he inspires while being art I wanna watch stars with him under the tree I wanna let him know he is my shooting star wish I wanna let him know he makes the shooting star wish I wanna know with whom did he watch the sunrise with, for afterwards, after every night , the clock only hit 12 noon? I wanna know which song makes him chirp like a bird I wanna know which song does he skip the most? I wanna know all the people who cried because of him I wanna know all the people because of whom he cried I wanna know why does he fears parts so much? is it because he fears being a part and not a whole? or is it because he fears losing a part of a whole? but I also don’t wanna be in love I don’t wanna be in love because I fear he’ll know parts of me that only my poetry knows I fear the only warmth my poems would know would be of him, for I could never be good enough of a home. I fear that star will turn into dust and that dust will only grow hemlock trees. I fear that we’ll break the shooting star into pieces, that each piece will only wish of never being born again I fear that the only sunset and sunrise I’ll know is of the light that sparkles in his eyes I fear that the only song I’ll ever sing is the way he breathes I fear I’ll cry every time he sings I fear each time he asks for a part of me, my hollowness keeps consuming me more, therefore keeping me whole. I fear every time I write a love poem it reminds me of him I fear every love poem being about him I fear my poems craving for love from him I fear poems like these turning into a love poem for him -Vanika Wahi Instagram- @vanikawahii
