The Other Person

Sometimes I think you’re the wind beneath my sails, until you chose moments such as this, to remind me how although I’m the superior being, I’m still subject to you.

Moments when you decide to become my cage, although you’re supposed to be my independence

Moments when you stay silent in a conversation, but flood my head in isolation.

We used to be best buddies, but now we’re not, and it’s not because I lack what to say.

My dearest, I know sometimes I embarrass you with my petty attempts at a serious conversation, I know you may feel humiliated at my silly attempts at wittiness.

I’m not at all knowing, but I wish you’d have had my back when I felt shy, or when I stood in front of the crowd.