Merak Magazine

My Bloom

My heart was bleeding

My soul was pleading

to unleash the knots of my nerves

to drain off the blood from my skin

to let me veil, to let me disappear.

My eyes were open but the lashes wilted

My lips were moving,

but the words were sealed

My legs carried a heavy monster

with burning hot skin, pale and brim

breathing cold air, surviving in dim.

The spark of his eyes calmed me

The light of his soul healed me.

The touch of his skin fixed me.

The wounds were deep,

yet his silence crept all the way in,

cleared my sores,

with pauses and force.

The raised brows and the curve in his lips,

woke me up and gave me new hopes

to search for the smile I lost years back.

And here as a flower,

I bloom again

to drip nectar of delight

to spread the fragrance of love

to add vibrant to his garden.

Seema Marzook

I worry less about fitting into glass slippers and focus more on shattering the glass ceilings.
Seema Marzook
Seema Marzook

I worry less about fitting into glass slippers and focus more on shattering the glass ceilings.

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