But if we can't talk about a
hundred ways to laugh
about it.
We can't be friends.
You being happy is alright.
But if we can't peel it down
to the core, to hold it
against light to examine its
existential vanity.
We can't be friends.
I want to know why sorrow
has such an inflated ego,
and why joy always behaves
as though it invented
the universe.
I want to get into the mess
of chaos. Swim in the ripples
deliberately created by
stoning the still waters.
I want a cesspool we can
regret and romanticize.
Like, if we can't laugh at
funerals. If we can't
philosophize bad coffee.
If we can't interrupt our
deepest confessions with
the stupidest jokes.
We can't be friends.
I don't want conversations
that merely exchange
weather reports of the heart.
I want an intellectual
vandalism that rearranges
each other's thoughts to
leaving fingerprints on
each other's worldview.
I want us to disagree
without becoming enemies.
I want us to change our
minds without calling it
defeat.
If curiosity of certain kind
finds us till we're reckless
about our explorations-
Let's become footnotes in
each other's thinking.
Let's argue all about it till we
embarrass ourselves and
sit across a dungeon of
comfortable silence, and
only if you have the urge to
fill it unnecessarily,
We can't be friends.