The Boy I Love Poem by Ananya Singh

The boy I love is a mystic song of secrets,
Thinking he'll never confess leaving me suspiciously stranded,
He's asleep and I'm looking at his face,
A sheer resemblance of melancholy mixed with a little bit of contentment,
He clutches his hands in mine in the middle of the crowd,
As if he's holding on to something that evoked his childhood memory somehow,
The boy I love detaches himself from the world like its a river of prolonged curse,
Ripping out, kept searching for love, little did i know he made me his universe,
Often, I ask him why are you so reticent and naive?
So full of nostalgia and a buried soul looking for a grave,
He said I'm a miserable wallflower hiding behind the facade of a rose,
Wishing to get acknowledgement but impossible to transpose,
The boy I love kisses me like he wants to crawl inside me,
Escaping the reality, longing to dream an epiphany,
While having conversation he cries under the blanket,
Putting on a poker face just like nothing happened,
The boy I love is sometimes strong and weak,
Biting his tongue, flaunting scars like a refugee,
I'd tell you more what he's like,
As if thousand million fireflies lighting up the dark sky,
But I must go to sleep before he wakes up,
Romanticizing him as a dream while his eyes are wide shut.