I don’t want this love,
The love of modern days.
Where we write poetries about people but not the souls who complete us.
Where I crave love even when I bury my head in someone’s chest.
I see myself lost in the ocean of known faces.
I want your words – the voices inside your head,
The demons which never leave you – I want that.
I want you to feel the rush in your blood when I envelop you in my arms.
Tell me, you want that too?
Because when i look at you – my nomadic soul feels that you are the home it seeks and yet,
I can walk miles just to find your empty soul which knows nothing about my words.
Let me turn your world into a magical place, will you?
Because for me paradise is nothing but your arms,
I covet to stay in them every day.
And your warmth lingers on my skin when you leave me.
Love is a poetic place for me and you, my muse – i want to create poetry out of your every breath, every touch, your every whispers.
Haunt me, and wreck my soul.
But stay here.
Stay on my head like a nightmare who dresses like a daydream.
Someone who makes me smile.
I am sorry if I demand too much?
But I don’t want this modern meaningless love where you don’t know how to love.
I want the evenings when your shattered nomadic soul wanders around.
I want you to rest on my shoulder,
I want you to feel peace in me – in someone who has nothing to offer you.
I desire this love which is not only about mortal bodies.
Which you may not find in modern dating apps,
Which you may not find on your right desk in your office.
Where somebody leaves a coffee cup to cure your tired body.
Which you may not find in my words or actions.
But then, how can I tell you that my soul needs love as much as your soul does?
I know, this kind of love seems like a fantasy to the people who just scroll down but never write a love letter.
Who just share songs but never sing for one.
I am too tired as you, for this world.
We are just two lunatics who are searching for soulmates in this modern world.