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Student @ Yaba College of Technology
WHAT ARE WE?
<p>What are we?</p><p><br/></p><p>You replied five times in ten minutes. Are you no longer busy?.</p><p><br/></p><p>You made me gaze at my phone, grinning from ear to ear.</p><p><br/></p><p>The sound of the notification has become a glorious tune to me.</p><p><br/></p><p>Still, I have a question. What are we?</p><p><br/></p><p>The feelings on the table are undeniable. I smile when I hear your name, when I think of your frame, when I play your stupid game.</p><p><br/></p><p>Your silence became a sword through my heart. I forced myself not to reflect on the hard part.</p><p><br/></p><p>Still, what are we?</p><p><br/></p><p>We're a thin line between lovers and friends.</p><p><br/></p><p>The border between platonic and romantic.</p><p><br/></p><p>Your sweet words amuse me, like a melody made for wonder's peak.</p><p><br/></p><p>Your attention is craved by my innermost being.</p><p><br/></p><p>Your whims are like a new sunrise, like fresh bread with akara on a warm morning.</p><p><br/></p><p>Still I ask, what are we?.</p><p><br/></p><p>Will you wait until our rhythms no longer align? Until my mind races for someone else to be mine?</p><p><br/></p><p>Will you wait until all I see are your flaws, until I'm no longer wine drunk?</p><p><br/></p><p>Will you wait till the next time you're busy—too busy to remember me.</p><p><br/></p><p>Yet, I wait till you tell me what you feel.</p><p><br/></p><p>Still, I ask, what are we?.</p>
WHAT ARE WE?
By
Trixie Wrights
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Trixie Wrights
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