The "You Make Me Grow" poem

I have stopped writing poetry these days. I am stumbling more and more upon social commentary. It's funny because I want to write poetry but I am not so sad anymore. I don't sulk quite as much as I used to. 

Well, there is the "suppressed-feelings-face", the "lovestruck-dumb-face", the "hell-with-it" face, and every kind of stupid face that people find me making. I just don't prefer to mask it anymore. And, I am so much happier that way to be able to feel free from the shackles I have unknowingly, forcefully, caged myself into. 

I am more of a "I-will-look-down-the-balcony, would-you-look-back" kinda person, I am more of a "I-want-to-constantly, irritatedly, feel-your-presence" kinda person, I am more more of a "I-feel-this-way, do-you-feel-this-way-too, how-do-you-feel" kinda person, I am more of a "I-will-write-letters-to-you, I-will-want-you-to-read-them" kinda person.

I don't do, would you care to?

I don't do absence. 

I don't do silence. 

I don't do unsteady. 

It's hard realizing these, what would you do and what would you don't, when the most important goal becomes maintaining your mental sanity. The line has been quite blurry for a long time. 

So, yes, I am going to write. I am going to sell "sadness" to the sadist but also "happiness" to the hopeful. 

We have all come a lot far. We have survived. I believe it's celebration enough. We deserve a day of waking up and shouting-out-loud the minute we wake up that today we will simply do nothing. We would get all cozied up with our loved ones not because we want to escape or because we are unable to get up as we feel so tired to our bones even if there is so much to do, but because we are feeling happy existing, breathing, loving and being loved. 

Credits: Bombay Cats