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Ananya Barman

Abstract Drama Romance


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Ananya Barman

Abstract Drama Romance


An Open Letter To My Beloved

An Open Letter To My Beloved

4 mins 148 4 mins 148

An open letter, to my beloved.

It's been a few sunsets apart from you.

I lay awake today,

At a strange hour of the night 

Still thinking about the times we'd lay awake intertwining the spaces between our fingers

As you unconsciously filled in the gaps that remained in me. 


My fragile heart craves things that are logically not possible to have,

Like your arms wrapped around me from two cities apart.

You're not the one who'd spare two minutes of the day to think about me

But sometimes I hear church bells ringing about the silence of my room.


I used to think the hopeless romantic in me died

Somewhere along the million paths of romanticized heartbreaks 

But I imagine sunrise,

I imagine the end of my melancholy,

I imagine to be yours.

I believe we're real when I'm intoxicated,

We're as real as it can get.


But these fantasies as it is in my head,

They fail to synchronise.

Maybe if we were two different people,

You'd want me to be invariably yours.

But we only exist in words,

In subtle poetry,

In memories.


I wish I could convince you,

That I'm not her.

I'm messy,

With myself,

With the ink with which I write,

With you.

And maybe she was much more organised

And knew how to put you together with all the right pieces,

But I swear I've been cleaning up the corners of my room

Where it still smells of you.


Tonight,

I'm more scattered than my mind,

And my heart breaks to admit it,

That I love you

Maybe not forever

But right now.

Maybe you're not even alive,

But you live with me through this night.

You live with me through the traces of art that you left.


Yet I remember how you first spilled,

And how I almost believed

That this is it,

This is where I end.

Cause at that moment with shaky palms and quavering breath,

I couldn't find the words to tell you

That I was yours,

Truly and forever.


Carved in a single letter,

Carved in a paper which surpass reality,

We are real

And we are immortal

And tonight I will be yours,

Till the sunrises again,

I will be unconditionally and boundlessly yours.


Yours truly.


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