A.

A burning star. substack: https://substack.com/@aditispoetry?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android&r=5bbdph

[aditispoetry]

How i feel taking a pic

[aditispoetry]

Are y'all on substack?? If so please tell me

[aditispoetry]

I like seeing your coffee mug stained with dregs of my tea, it reminds me of us, and how we might look like we belong to two different universes, our love fits like a perfect puzzle in place.

[aditispoetry]

At night I wonder, do you remember me like I remember you?

[aditispoetry]

I hope you get all the love you gave.

[aditispoetry]

मेरे दिल के लिफाफे में, तेरा खत है जानिया।

In my heart's envelope, there lays your letter, my love.

[aditispoetry]

I feel as if I will mourn us every moment. It genuinely breaks my heart how i can't really function without thinking about you. My default thoughts are about you. I'm trying to change, truly, but I can't do it.

[wildflowerdaysi]

in my dreams i run to you

[aditispoetry]

[aditispoetry]

I do fear that you've made your imprint on my soul while I've not even entered your mind.

[paper-wounds]

[aditispoetry]

[aditispoetry]

[aditispoetry]

The first place where he ever kissed me was my temple. More than the actual kisses we had, he preferred kissing my temple over them all. Every day I saw him, every hour I spent with him,it was etched in my memory, on my temple.

He used to say, "The only place where I worship is at your temple. That is where I find my God."I had laughed, convinced he was trying to appease my poetic side. When I looked over, I'd seen his deep brown hues dilate, with such depth I was lost in them for a moment. My eyes watered and I felt the lump in the back of my throat. I had never been loved like this before. No man I had ever loved was this kind. But then, he was always the exception.

[krushitaspoetry]

If you ever read this, know that I loved you in that quiet, ruinous way, where the soul bends first, long before the body follows. There are truths I cannot speak aloud, so I let the ink suffer them instead, bleeding what my mouth refuses to betray.

[paper-wounds]

[aditispoetry]

Maybe one day, years from now, we'll meet again at a coffee shop and start fresh. We'll forget we ever knew each other before and give each other a second chance. We'll pretend to not know the tells of each other, until a few days have passed, but it will be perfect. It will be the way it was supposed to be now.

We will love each other better, and we will take care of ourselves more. We will learn to love ourselves and forgive each other. We will have a second shot, and it will be good.