The Mark You Left On Me

By Vaishavi Ashokkumar Oza

I tried being the cold marble of a statue— 

still, indifferent and untouched

But your name is a crack through my stone, 

and no matter how hard I try,

I crumble every time you say, "Where's Vaish?" 

like a forgotten clock suddenly remembering how to tick.

You're the kind of a cozy feeling that persists on a pillow long after someone leaves—

soft, familiar and impossible to forget.

That night when you said,

"Let's talk tomorrow; I don't want this convo to end quickly".

My heart folded into itself like the pages of a love letter sealed with a sigh.

Your words didn't just stay with me; 

they tattooed themselves into my soul.

And every time I reread them in my mind,

 my cheeks turn into rose-tinted secrets the world isn't supposed to know.

And you still ask why I like you?

I'm shy around you because you're sweet like candies 

and cute like those plushies we laugh about.

This world might be an ugly place, but you?

You make it beautiful.

Every time someone mentions your name, 

my heart can't help but smile.

How do you make me fall in love like this?

I want to buy you little pretty things—

hell, I'd sell my own bones

for ruby stones,cause red's your favorite color.

You say you have flaws,

but have you ever seen how a teddy bear, 

worn and stitched, still feels like the safest hug?

That's what your imperfections are— 

the reason I feel at home with you.

Here lies everything I never said,

carved in ghostly marks on the walls of my heart.

I'm afraid of these romantic words, you see?

But you—

you make me want to write them across every star.

So, give me the worst of you—

I'll take it anyway.

I'm here, despite the pain.

Don't tell me to go away.

By Vaishavi Ashokkumar Oza