• _firefly 10w

    *ananya plays in background*

    My dear,

    Remember that song we wrote and sang? And then you combined all the audios? Yes I still listen to it when I feel alone because I don't/can't talk to people. I listen to it to know that you're near me when you're practically 500 kms far. I love you. With all the love in my heart, I love you.

    A rdent poetry falls from her mouth as,
    N avy blue sky glitters with pearly stars
    A nd her hands caress curled pages of old
    N ovel, making her the muse of a poet's
    Y earning heart and passionate eyes who rests
    A mong the scents of her beautiful neat presence.


    Remember the study sessions we did together? Yes that's the last time I studied properly and I'm trying again. I'm trying to be the better person like you always wanted me to. I told you about every inch of every scar my heart ever suffered. And you have tucked yours very carefully, somewhere away, because you're really wise. There's no harm in concealing it.

    /People call me a poet,
    An artist in love
    But I was just in love
    An artist was painted by him
    On my skin/

    Her hands bleed poetries, covered in love and warmth of silver moon. She walks on the grass, barefoot, decorating nights with her starry aura, wearing a blush gown and a tiara, festooned with gardenias and fireflies.

    /Maybe next time you'll borrow my art and smudge it off your skin, because if writers are artists, let lovers be./

    The canvas of her eyes reflect the irises painted by van gogh on a drunk, lonely night. She flies with courage even though the world tries her to all limits. She never lets anyone hold her down.

    /Let it fall in love with him
    Let it live
    Let it be a heart./

    Her heart bleeds golden on days when the hope is lost, too far, behind the horizon. She stares at the sunsets, with a calmness ruling over her face. She recites sonnets of joy, restoring faith inside forlorn souls.

    /Because it's the dustiest things that are the most beautiful,
    On which we refuse to give up/

    The locks of her hair, cascade like the river of optimism running perennially. She dances with the demons and defeats them with a tender kiss on their cheek. She is the silver lining in those dense clouds of delirious times.

    @sighsandskies HAPPY BIRTHDAY��❤
    Thank you so much for being a part of my existence.

    Yours lovingly

    / lines belong to ananya herself.

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