Category: Ordinary Love
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Do you let someone trim them when they get too long but ask that they be careful not to cut it too short?
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It was an inside joke. I never fully understood it, but I liked to play along. You’d say my love was like ice. That water was bland and boring—something you only drink to survive. But once you have ice, everything is different. It transforms everything it touches. It makes whiskey sweeter, pepsi less sweet, and,…
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On other days I wait silently for that familiar fish that loves to fall for the same bait, over and over
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Wet chappals squeaking on tiled floors
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Your words and I are playing an unfair game of hide-and-seek.
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Over the years, the heaters made the winters a lot less cold, but it always felt a lot less warm.
Epiphany in the Cacophony 