Perish.

Every writer has a favorite word, or at least a spoiled one. And perhaps words have favourite people too when it comes to picking their preferred authors. I like to feel that the word perish and I share a special bond.

Every single time I sit down to write song lyrics, she refuses to go unnoticed. She always has to raise her hand and volunteer herself, demanding I grant her her moment. It doesn't matter if she had one in a previous song; she loves being a part of the rhymes.

And deep down, I love that she's behaves with such extroversion when she’s around me. Sometimes she even comes across a tad flirty. If I don't choose her at any given moment, I don't know if she'd get jealous... you know, rhymes can be “telling off”.

“But we always have the prose, so what's your excuse?”

Maybe she DOES get jealous.

I don't know if I'd be the jealous type in return if I read her too often in someone else’s writings, but—

Second thought, maybe it does make me feel a little something.

And when I say a little, it's because those jealous-y feels perish every time our eyes meet again. They are extinguished every time we have a word exchange.

— yours truly, V.

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃🖊

P.S. No, it's not my favorite word in Spanish (my native language), but if I'm confessing this in the 'postscript,' it's so she doesn't catch wind of this whisper. Pretty please, don't tell on me. Gossips are persona non-grata...