Don’t read.
I haven’t written anything I want to read.
I want my words to become a language on their own, to dance before your eyes, to sing to you in the silence.
I haven’t written anything I want to read.
I want my words to sketch characters in your mind, to fill your nights with colorful dreams, to show you sparks on a bright day.
I want my words to be yours when you lose your own, to say what’s true when you’re in doubt, to be with you when I can’t.
I haven’t written anything I want you to read.
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You haven’t written anything I wanted to read.
Aditya.
You haven’t read anything I wanted to write.