sitting on this motionless chair as i watch her leave arms tucked in with someone else's could it be, that she's thinking of me she reminds me of my youth clutching on to anything that made me feel real often i'd find myself devoid of ardors later people telling me i needed time to heal still sipping on the same glass of hennessy i watch her gaze right into another's eyes wishing they were mine i'd rather quench my needs with lies i can see everyone's cheeks grow pale now it's not the same hour i saw her leave have i been living the same lie for years or am i just that naive trying to look for you in any woman i see my agony aggravated with this empty chair beside me what does it take for me to feel things now attention i say, but to which degree? -Peace.
I'm Satyam, a 20-year old Economics student at Tilburg University in The Netherlands. Oh, and I also write sometimes.