The corner of my bed lits up. I try to close the curtains, I wish to sleep some more. But clearly you, the stubborn light falling on my face with all your warmth do not wish so. I get irritated and go to another side. Tossing and turning on the bed didn't help last night. But how would a morning visitor know that? And hence I don't blame you. You don't know the nights. And you hardly know the darkness. Your continuous knock on the door annoy me at first but after a while I get used to the knocks, to your warmth. You come to me every day and give me these early morning warm cuddles I don't tell this to you often But I like your stubbornness I like how you do not give up on me. You don't see the teary-eyed nights or the soaked pillows But my morning face, puffy eyes And smudged kajal tells you the story. You believe it and choose to not run away It takes courage to hug or cuddle what is broken, your
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