I was never mistaken in loving you.
The heart wants what it wants.
Sometimes it happens slow,
Like a gently rising slope;
And sometimes all at once,
Striking like an arrow and blinding with it.

Your touch electrified my soul
In a way so rare, I knew what it was.
Your eyes locked with mine, and you had me.
Your smile, your laughter—
An icy gulp of water in the desert.

I was mistaken in allowing my walls down.
Not heartwalls; I no longer had those.
Open like a book, a simple puff of air
Fluttered my pages apart to any word you chose.

I broke down the walls of me,
The establishment of self.
A meek cry, a tiny shadow
Of the booming ostentation of me.

I was never mistaken in loving you;
I was mistaken in not loving me.
© Aastha Awasthi