I was looking for it, in every person that I anywhere met,
But glances of disinterest, of lust and desire, was all I could get,
And one day, you walked into my life, into my heart,
Funny, how in the simplest of ways, these things start.
I had always met people, who wanted to talk, to impress,
People who turned up in polished shoes and a creased dress,
There was them, and there was you, one who would hear,
One who could feel my tears and also guess my fear.
You would look at me, and I would look down and blush,
Not because it was embarrassing, or my cheeks were flush,
But because, if I looked straight back into your eyes,
From pure surprise, you wouldn’t know what to do with your eyes.
But your eyes don’t just look at me, they look into me,
They pierce and try to ferret out every secret from me ,
To run away from them, your trespassers that stalk,
I let you hold my hand, as we take this evening’s walk.
There’s something about the way you say my name,
Is it my obsession, or do you call everybody the same?
Either way, what matters is, I called out, and you came,
And from now on, nothing for us, shall ever be the same.
This one is a series called “The Other Side” wherein I have tried to explore the feelings from the other side of the veil, one that is rarely written about, and even if written, hardly heard well enough, specially when there are such a huge number of ‘female bashers’ like me out here. So this was an attempt to tell the story from the girl’s point of view, like I promised somebody about a month ago, and am thus looking forward to any kind of feedback, especially from femme fatales, because I had to rely a lot on breaking a lot of common stereotypes to achieve even the least bit of movement.