Life feels heavy —
as if I lack the strength to carry on.
Loneliness demands it so;
I've grown used to fleeing from what's real.
I watch others live their love-filled lives —
but it's never enough.
My body aches for it,
and so does my soul — to love, to be loved.
Yet still, a spark glows deep within,
flowers bloom in my heart,
whispering softly:
Spring is near.
And the scent of those blossoms —
it reminds me of you.
I think we fit, like verses in rhyme —
have you ever felt it too,
when you looked at us from the outside?
I saw you first from afar —
one glance, and my heart was already racing.
I fell for your eyes right then and there,
on M.M. Street, number twenty-seven.
I took a photo of that moment,
the place where we first met —
it still lives in my gallery.
And maybe, one day,
if I write a song,
I’ll make it the art cover — meaningful and true.
Since you,
everything around me has blossomed —
flowers in my chest,
butterflies in my stomach,
seeds of something new scattered everywhere.
If Spinoza had seen you,
he wouldn’t say “God is in all,”
but rather, “God is only in you.”
I want you to want me,
the way I want you —
with all the love I've yet to give.
30.07.2025, by Shamsaddin Amanov
