☸

A part of my name was always in your name and this amazes me.

Bless you, wild/torn heart

I never told you and never heard it. But when morning sun rises its especially assigned metaphor does too. Bless hope. Burn hope.

I never told you but I wonder if you kind of knew. You know, kind of. And wonder is the keyword. Because what else are we capable of? Oh existential dread.

I want to write something poetic. If I thought of you long enough, maybe I could. But who has the energy? I mean, even you would know that. Neither of us.

To know you.

Source: Typewriter

In my heart’s clustered town

I am living.

Some tears rolled down..

In my heart’s clustered town.

They cause movements.

I’m living.

I’m loving.

….~.~.~.~…

They rolled further down

To the center of the town.

They cause commotions

I’m dying.

I’m dead.

.

And yet they traveled more

To the point that made me sore.

They made me live again!

I’m dead.

I’m living.

© Copyright: Maria and Moniba

P.S. Thankyou Moniba for the superb additions to my writing.

My silent words..

Silence-

is not a symbol of pride.

its not always ego.

Silence is a silent expression-

  of what I want you to see.

of what I have always wished for you to find out!

Silence is the power of heart.

It holds up relations by saving them from harm.

Silence is the art of saying it all — without the need of words!

-Maria.