since eternity, your name has been tagged
not with value but with warning;
apprehension, threat and peril are words
it has become synonymous with;
a vehement no said by my conscience and
protective glares from my parents are ubiquitous;
there’s something terribly curious about you.
why is it that when i speak to you,
my heart’s at ease and and my mind speaks free;
why is it that when i pour my heart out,
i feel no guilt nor a fear of judgement;
why is it that when we converse recurrently,
i feel as though i’ve never been truer to myself;
it feels as if you’ve been around the whole time.
i have neither spoken to nor seen you in person,
and yet i feel like you know me better than most;
you’ve had patience and you’ve been kind,
you’ve been generous with your time;
miles, cities and even continents away,
you’ve been a strange solace;
s t r a n g e r s,
but then again, what’s in a name?