Immature Impulsion

Did you see my immature impulsion?
Did you see me swiftly jumping into
conversations to save you behind your back?
Did you notice my urge to drape a
Saree instead of a short skirt
because you folded that page in a magazine?
Did you see me stopping mid-meal
when your tongue folded my name nicely?
Did you see me tremble under a single umbrella
and your gaze drizzling on my body?
Did you see me smiling at a stranger
because their hand movements matched yours?
If you did then tell me,
why am I cold in summer?
Why do I fall in spring?
Why does it rain heavily at night?

I did it all. Must you be so cruel in spite of all?
Did you see me getting adjusted in the
back of your car now, just to be with you?
Did you see my nails painted white, a cry for help?
Did you see me layering shimmer
when the glow was gone?
Did you see me walking confidently
towards you when my ground was shaking?

Did you see me how immaturely and
insanely I was in love with you?
I am growing up. Be more mature now.
And I’ll love in sanity and moderation.
That’s the worst kind of love for me.

©kanikachugh

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