Song

In an amber lit garden, I listen. It’s three minutes past midnight and I hear waves crashing in the distance, trees whistling with the wind. With nature’s lullaby, a song came on and nostalgia overwhelms me.

My fingers dance to an unfamiliar rhythm played from a playlist I thought I knew by heart.
My lips try to sing along only to realize that the lyrics have different meanings now.
My body is begging to sway to a foreign language that I am eager to learn.

As the song plays, I find myself wanting to travel its melodies and surf its acoustics. The harmonious voices putting my curious heart in a wondering trance.

I am reminded of nights we danced under fairy lights and laughed endlessly because my foot was stepping on yours every second count.
I am reminded of days we spent in the shade talking about everything that evokes ignored emotions.

Love, pain, constellations.

Only to realize that there have been alterations to my favourite song.
That the song I thought I knew stood for something more.
That the reason I kept stepping on your foot was that we heard two different tunes. That yours go 1,2 and I had a third.
And I was so caught up in the moment I ended up dancing to mix matched tunes.
I was stuck in your sea and I let the current take me away.

But as unfamiliar as we are now, you’re still my song,
And I don’t want to learn a new one.

Empty Beds

Beds are described to be empty and cold when love is lost.
However, when I slept in my bed, I knew I wasn’t alone.
I had infinite memories running through my head reminding me that
happy memories are not happy when it is not present.
That kisses are not as sweet when all I have is the after taste; and it is bitter, it is far from strawberries.
Songs lose all meaning unless we are waltzing under dimly lit skies.