Let me be a bit rude to you,
At least I get your attention that way.
Let me misunderstand you a bit,
If only to leverage all the efforts I made to understand you.
Let me be wrong. At times, horribly wrong,
Otherwise what will we be left to talk about?
Let me be imperfect,
Because possibly you like correcting me.
And I like you correcting me even more.
Let me abuse you a bit,
Because it is fucking tough to be sad without any swearing.
Let me miss you a bit,
So that I can understand how it feels when one of us is gone.
Let me be a bit bitter,
Because for all that understanding and the hoopla around it,
I still miss you.
Let me be a bit insulting, a bit inconsiderate,
Because I will rather be genuine than be courteous.
Let me shout at you a bit,
Even though I hate being shouted at.
Because in a crowd, you become deaf to my voice.
Let me try hard to hold on to you,
Because I am scared of all the other threads gradually attaching themselves to you.
Let me remain stupid,
Because I am afraid of being heartless.
Let me be irritating,
Because I will prefer to use the energy in being conscious about myself in talking to you instead.
Let me rest assured that you understand me,
Because it gives me the freedom to open up to you and be rude to you.
Let me be rude to you.
Let me be me,
Because I am all yours.
The person you would rather me be, might not be so.