The way you disapprove of me is an art.

The way you disapprove of me is an art.
Out of the blue, comes this time when you discover that I breathe a bit of imperfection.
You come to know that I'm entangled in absurdity.

I often find it easy upon me to be cornered from the world.
I find my space.
I find my peace.
I deal with my pace.

An underdog.
Yeah, probably.
Hold my hand
and I would rush away.
I would skip those passing of smiles, sometimes.
I would fail to uplift myself.

I do not adore mirrors much.
It shows me my scars and
marks of past.
But alas!
It fails to adore my pain,
it fails to see my deep-down struggle.
I look upon you.
You are not my end-piece-of-hope;
nonetheless I find a great deal of zeal
in loving you.
You gradually act as that mirror
hung on my bedroom wall corner.
It wishes to see the perfect me.
Indifferent from the materialistic world
you pour down on me your utmost disapproval.

I do not abhor your disregard towards me.
That is what makes you what you are  my darling.

But,
the way you disapprove of me is an art.
We both possess artists within us-
Me, an eternal, incomplete lover.
You, a materialistic delight-seeker. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️