“I Think, I Would, I Must, I Will”

By Yashveer Vats Gaurav

I  think the flames of my rigidity died the day we met; your eyes felt like spring and winter colliding along the coastline of my ivy-clad neck. You became a god in my pantheon, wielding a sword forged from my insanity, and you sliced through it effortlessly.

I tumble down the path of your love, hoping to be enough. I think it’s time for me to become worthy of you. You make these heavy bones feel light, as if burdened only by the weight of devotion.

I would beg no god mightier, and I would face devils tenfold. But I would carve daggers from my own bones before I let you stain your sword with anything more than my sanity.

I must attain you; I must worship, and I must convince myself that my love is worthy of yours. I need to build more than a temple of false hope, more than a sloping chapel of fragile love.

I will make a home; one where our souls dance with the same spirit as the baby blue skies that we both were born under. 

By Yashveer Vats Gaurav