You’re under arrest for...

I’d prefer paragraphs and sentences over lines and verses and stanzas…

Nonetheless, this is my first silly poem about—love? Or obsession? I call it,

“Fourteenth of February.”

Starry eyed and awed as you turned to me.

Like an angel who descended from the heavens.

Afternoon it was on the fourteenth of February.

The show was silly, the actors were boring.

I wanted to leave, not until you turned.

And my mind went like, “Who is she?”

Strewn across the floor was a tribe of Plain Janes.

And then there you are: black hair shining, fair complexion gleaming.

The contrast of yours was remarkable. Unparalleled. Incomparable.

Not contended with a second glance, I could gaze at you ceaselessly.

Like a warrior retrieving, you were gone for a while.

And then you returned; you seemed more revived.

Our eyes met, and oh God, I couldn’t stare back.

I just pretended to be looking at nowhere.

That would be the last time, I thought,

That I’ll ever see you again, thank God!

But I was wrong—He heard not my prayers.

Coz just a few days later, you just made my heart beat…

One hundred and forty-three times slower. Again.

In a place where we chomp in this place of labor,

You were there, smiling, which I ignore.

For I believe that smile was just a product,

Of my hallucinations and wild imaginings.

Inside the lift, going down, we were together.

And oh God, I felt like being buried down the grave, lower.

Where I’d like to die and stay forever with someone,

Whom I’d like to spend my life with eternally.

Let this lift be jammed, I prayed!

And then I grasp the chance of knowing you more.

That is, if I could even get the courage to do so.

Or else I die due to fainting.

Strange that I don’t even know your name.

And I think of you every minute, even when I sleep.

When the sun rises, I imagine you’re beside me, and

When the stars sparkle like diamonds in a canvass of velvet.

Is this love or obsession? I don’t know.

There’s only one thing I’m certain of:

You’re the only one, who has overdosed me with a substance,

Called endorphin; lots of it, I couldn’t even eat.

If endorphin were a poison, I should have been lifeless by now.