You are not necessarily a John Doe,
I know you,
as you know me.
Well enough to know that I dont open up easily,
let alone share my thought.
But with you around,
with clouds hanging above our heads,
with nothing but honesty,
we talked nonsense and stars above.
You managed to touch things I never cared to say.
You had the guts to tug strings I never wanted to hold.
You moved gracefully with your words,
forming phrases and sentences entwined in dark truth that I never dared to conclude.
Yet we danced in the jumbled letter, effortlessly.
The silence was not awkward, the stillness was not unsettling, the quietness was not killing.
Then somehow,
a different time zone seized us, rip the conversations' apart.
Every moment was stolen, every minute was borrowed,
every chances was swallowed by the almighty time.
Perhaps, maybe, if one can only hope,
in alternative universe, in the next reincarnation, in another version of us,
when both have the luxury of time,
we can always share our head, abusing the dusk and dawn with senseless words,
filling the air with our foolish laugh til we suffocate,
savoring every spoken sentences, drowning in tangled mind,
without any prejudice.
It is, afterall, the talk that had our path crossed.
Xoxo,
Jane Doe
