tranQUILLity 🤍

Dear un-Home, I love you.  I dreamt of writing to you in eloquent, alliteration-heavy verse. Writing of smiles, of teardrops, of growth -  of sweet plot twists and of not-so-sweet firsts. But words seemed to know better, much to my initial dismay - they refused to lend themselves to what I yearned to say. Sometimes, I wondered where to begin sometimes, the lines just wouldn’t rhyme. So I gave up. Because I guess, just like us, our story was meant to grow at its own time. I wanted this to be a confession of love - the kind they call “enthralling”, “poetic finesse”. But… ours was never an aesthetic story, was it? Rather, a quiet, beautiful mess… So I shall resist the temptation to drape my words in fancy embellishments I shall write, in the language of our love which to the world, may make little sense. I shall disregard conventions of ‘beginning - middle - end’ and embrace shabby, fragmented lines. I shall leave some thoughts to the language of silence and hope our love still ...