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Without Belonging

If you ever decide to choose otherwise Choose what knows your worth  Surrender to the little joys of life  Embrace petals that reshape your gentleness into something celestial If you must depart  Do it gently Like the sea approaching slowly to drown someone unaware of their death  Your departure will wound me within  Yet, it would be gentler than the wounds of your remaining without belonging. ~Zara M.

The Language of Rain

Dear Heart,  Solace Today the sky remembers your name. As the rain pours on the earth, each drop speaks your name, carries your silence, and leaves the atmosphere serene.  Rain has never touched my heart but as the time lapses, seclusion has learnt my name, and I have leaned more towards nature, where falling drops from the sky mirror the very nature within me, winged hearts welcome the sky's tears and surrender themselves without resistance, much like I have surrendered to the quiet chapters of my own life. They are but reflections of the stories I have lived. Standing behind the window, watching downpour descend from the heavens, holding a cup of black coffee while staring into the day, seeing your image in every falling drop, carrying you in my heart and your thoughts in my mind, writing to you, I know of nothing that could unburden me more than this.   Until my next, ~Zara M.

Love-Soaked Nights

.....After all this time, under the midnight skies, velvet nights, and rose-coloured evenings, we learned to admire each other. Our admiration deepened with our cozy conversations, silent gazes, and the soul connection. I do not see a moment where comfort ever dismissed us.   I believe every moment we are creating memories, and the same happened between us. Under dusky heavens, our stars kept aligning, and the Milky Way crafted cosmic rivers that kept favouring our destinies.   As the moments pass by, tonight, standing in solitude under nights woven with stars, which were once love-soaked nights, I recall how joyous our moments were. Sharing the sky alone today makes me feel as though I am drowning, with nobody to save me from the ocean that has risen to take me.     ~Zara M.

Silent Dialogues

We touched each other without touching. only gazed at one another, without a single stir.   It happens in life, where the communion of souls  and spiritual nearness overtake lingering presence. No longer does the language of proximity matter; what remains sacred is the silent admiration  and the gravity within the eyes.  When unspoken words take the shape of language,  sunrises linger within the eyes,  and the silent understanding awakens, they leave behind unforgettable memories.    Our silences found their voices before words had taken space;  an exchange of silent dialogues,  entire conversations carried through the eyes. ~Zara M.

Sweetness, Unwrapped

Dear Heart,  Gentle Soul Happy to write to you again. More playfully, let me say: My Dear Cupcake,  You are well aware that writing to you is my favorite hobby, and addressing you as C upcake does not necessarily mean I am hungry; it refers to the cuteness you embody and the fondness I have for you.  Your face is as juicy and chocolatey as the fudge. Your voice is as sweet as caramel but a salted one; of course, talking to you gives me the same butterflies I get whenever I see deep cocoa hues.  The moment I see you, or even imagine a conversation with you, I become my most playful self, full of childlike wonder; toying with you brings me the most untamed joy.     I cherish these little moments I spend unfolding my heart to you. Peace arises as my words come to rest with you. Though they may never reach you, I like to believe that one day they will.  Written in sunlight instead of moonlight. Till the next letter, Bye. ~Zara M.

The Weight of Summer

This summer, the months remained heavier than the heavy, warmer than the warm, and longer than the long.  I have witnessed long winter nights with dark skies, lunar light, and my solitude. But the summers then were lighter than the light with heaven's expanse, sunset's palette, and cosmic rivers; all that burdens my soul now. Time seems to be longer and darker, with each renewal of hope, I rebuild myself before I am torn once more.  Though the summer guests bloom as before and orchestrate the mornings, they no longer favour me. The solitude once confined to winter nights has taken over my summers. I started to believe that inner seasons are liable to create our outer seasons. ~Zara M.

When the World Goes Odd

When the world goes odd and fruits go sour,  Carry a cup of coffee and a well-loved book to make a moment of ours. The wide, dark night filled with stars  Shall remind you of all we gave from our hearts.  The moonlight spilling silver all across the path  Shall awaken an echo that resonates with your scars. Do not become heavy due to the gravity of memory.  But try cherishing what we once considered reverie. ~Zara M.

Perpetual Peace

Dear Heart,  As the night falls silent, It recalls me all: a face that blooms when it smiles, cheeks that cradle quiet sunshine, and hair that engulfs dark twilight. Watching your image come and go, tender crossings of our souls, infinite conversations that lead to perpetual peace, and yet, the dreams that never return to release. I write to you, in hours of despair, joy, solace, and  grief. Every time I am done writing to you, it is either anxiousness or tranquility, and these days, it is infinite unease that remains.  The depths of night take me further into the world where your impression resides; experiencing it at every unfolding brings disquiet to my soul.  Night leans in your favour, makes my silences choose you and draws my inner world to your presence alone. Yours, in every lifetime, ~Zara M.

Surviving Through Ink

Dear Heart,  These days I write ceaselessly, with obsession, almost to the point of smothering the page. My words streaming from my heart, flowing endlessly; I am overwhelmed with emotions, and steeped in devotion. I am unknown what this condition is: calling it abiding tenderness for you or madness, I am unable to decide.  At the moment, writing is my escape, my refuge, where I let my heart turn into ink and find consolation. It has kept me alive through this period of crisis: mental or emotional, It no longer matters to me.   Until the next letter, ~Zara M.