There is this person, who says he likes me.
Although, he don't know anything about me.
He don't know my name or how I look like,
yet he keeps liking me.
He don't know about my pain and scars
but he appreciates my presence and the feelings I fought,
which felt like fighting with real wars.
All the things I ever thought,
were never real, yet made me cry and my throat sours.
I am disturbed from the inside
yet very calm from the outside.
I don't even know the real me
but I can atleast imagine,
that person who will say he still likes me.
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