The drunk aesthete

capitalization is not important but punctuation is

[drunkaesthete]

livin' for the "we" and not "me" might be beautiful ?

[drunkaesthete]

you pressed a smile onto my lips

left your mark deep in my skin

in the heat of it all

i didn’t notice

my jhumka had fallen

for a moment

i felt the weight of it—the ache of loss

but your hands stayed

tracing my collarbone

so i let it slip away

days passed

your fingerprints blurred

but the burn of your touch stayed

and the jhumka's loss

was no longer a thought

then you stood before me

a rose in one hand

a box in the other

"i couldn’t wrap it," you whispered

"but it’s yours."

inside—new jhumkas

this time

---

nothing had broken

everything had healed

when your lips met mine

they didn’t just kiss

they devoured

lingered

like they knew what they wanted

[drunkaesthete]

aaj fir kalam uthane ka dil kiya,

par kaagaz fir bhi khaali reh gaya.

kisi se shikayat ki, toh unhe batane lagi.

kalam toh khud ke liye uthai thi,

par shabd hamesha kisi aur ke liye the.

kabhi duniya se gussa,

kabhi kisi ke liye ikraar.

kabhi sirf apnapan dhoondhne ki koshish mein

alfaaz bikhar gaye.

unhone kaha, "kuch bhi likho, par khud ke liye."

kaagaz abhi bhi khaali hai.

[drunkaesthete]

you kept banging on my door because it was shut

you see me dressed in my armor, thinking i'm going to fight for you again

you ask if i'm prepared; i silently deny

you see the red streak through the silver but ignore it, simply asking why

i am hurt

you demand to see, and i apologize and shut the door again

with each piece of armor i remove, i reopen old wounds and create new ones

i scream because it hurts

i weep, not because you demand to see my scars, but because you won’t help me take off my armor

[drunkaesthete]

the hardest goodbyes are the ones you never got to say

the ones where you never had the chance to express how much they meant to you, or how much love they left behind

the adoration in your heart remains, quietly buried, a silent tribute

wept, cried, and screamed, but you also gathered those feelings and kept them safe

not for the unsaid goodbye, but for the life you still need to live

[drunkaesthete]

ink is drying up,

sheets have been blank for too long,

the cursor keeps blinking,

bright on the dark screen.

my muse is hiding or is she lost ?

[drunkaesthete]

the heart felt a little to heavy today, with the longing of you.

[drunkaesthete]

poets, writers, storytellers whatever you may call them; romanticize love in way that you crave that too.

stringing the touches, the unsaid words, the eyes meeting into stories to recreate.

culprits of making heartbreak feel like a need, companionship a necessity, seemingly hope a possibility too.

making the world seem like painted in rose coloured hue, maybe not realistic neither the most practical but being the much needed relief too.

[drunkaesthete]

his smoldering gaze fixated on the dip of her neck as she tied her hair, a longing evident in his eyes.

"what are you looking at?" she asked, engrossed in her weekend chores, unaware of his intense gaze.

"nothing. need help? or shall we pause?" he offered, slipping a hand under her oversized shirt, gently holding her waist.

she giggled, "are you turned on? saw a hot bikini woman on instagram?"

"no, love. i saw you," he replied, pulling her down from the stool, disrupting her balance.

"ayeee, i was working," she protested, landing on her feet with a hint of annoyance.

"shut up, i'm in an old ratty t-shirt, covered in dust. and i turn you on?"

"mhhmmm," he murmured, brushing aside a lock of hair that had fallen from her bun, his touch sending shivers down her spine.

"don't," she pleaded softly, her voice tinged with desire.

he leaned closer to her ear, whispering, "you looked so pretty," gently nipping her earlobe.

"when the sunlight hit you, you looked like a goddess," he continued, pressing a soft kiss on her neck.

"when you tied your hair," he traced the delicate curve that had captivated him, "this, i just wanted to mark it."

as he started to pull away, doubts crept into his mind, "maybe i shouldn't objectify her. my lust has tainted past loves. i truly love her, i don't want to lose her."

"hey, baby," he interrupted, looking at her apologetically. "i'll let you continue."

she reached for him, pulling him closer by his collar, her eyes filled with longing.

"don't stop," she whispered, her breath warm against his ear.

he smiled, hunger unleashed, devouring her like a starving man.

---

"what's that?" her friend asked, noticing the mark on her neck.

"umm, a love bite," she replied, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

her friend teased, a playful grin on her face.

she simply shrugged, unable to contain her smile.

"lust in love, is just beautiful."

[drunkaesthete]

Amidst the trees, the furry creatures, and the moon,

They feel like friends, in nature's tune.

The warmth of an animal, worth the risk,

Their presence soothes, in shadows brisk.

The stability of the tree, 'neath glaring heat,

A refuge strong, where troubles retreat.

And the moon, a silent guardian above,

Guiding us through, with patient love.

But the best part is their listening ear,

No need for right or wrong to appear.

Sometimes, I just need to be heard,

In warmth and comfort, without a word.

[drunkaesthete]

Once upon a time, in a kingdom of joy,

There lived a princess, her laughter pure decoy.

She danced with delight, in a world so pretty,

Her smiles like petals, in a garden so witty.

But one day, a query, broke the blissful spell,

"Why do you smile? Why love so well?"

With a pause, she ceased, her laughter withheld,

And all around, the symphony of joy expelled.

The birds ceased their song, the flowers bowed low,

As the colors of mirth faded to a shadow.

This tale my father once told my mother dear,

As I, a child, laughed, devoid of fear.

His words a plea, a fervent decree,

"Don't question her laughter, let it roam free.

For her smiles paint my world, a rainbow bright,

And without her joy, I shun the dull of night."

So, let her laughter dance, in hues divine,

In a world adorned with love, like sparkling wine.

For in her mirth lies the magic, the gentle sway,

And to dim her smile, is to lose the light of day.

[drunkaesthete]

the love i never moved on from, wasn't the one who i would share my snacks with,

wasn't even the one who hated me for being better,

wasn't the one ...

wasn't the one who i sneaked in or out for,

wasn't the one who taught me to be okay,

wasn't the one who couldn't resist talking about my beauty,

wasn't the one who just wanted me to shut up and rest a little in his arms,

wasn't the one;

wait, that wasn't love i think,

wasn't the one who was okay with me ...

the love i never moved on from,

i still have treasured every piece of paper with your name on it,

my vision still gets blurry when i see another pair creating memories just like ours,

there are stupors in which i wish every time my phone rings it's you.

you promised forever.

but you left.

you left.

you are the love i never moved on from.

[drunkaesthete]

i don't want to become a poet; i don't want people to judge me because of the words i scribble. these people don't understand, i write about sweet love—not because i am falling for someone or infatuation struck me, but because i saw a young father carrying a little bundle in one hand and the other holding the hand of an exhausted woman. He whispers something, she melts into him with a radiant smile following as if the domino effect . when i write about heartbreak, it's not because i miss him. it's because my feet crushed two leaves that were perfect before i stepped on them. i write about loneliness, not because i spent my weekend holed up in my room, but because i had a lone spoon on my table. for it i brought a fork and wondered if they would ever be friends. i'll never be a poet, at least a good one, but i surely am a storyteller waiting to capture stories or ever make up one.

[drunkaesthete]

The reins you hold are mine, if you want we can chase the end of the rainbow together or lie drinking eachother in.

[drunkaesthete]

Just one of those nights where I wished not be accompanied by my words but rather a beating heart.

[drunkaesthete]

a letter

it's 3rd of december, the song heather is playing after every 3 songs in this barely lit coffee shop.

it's been a long time since you crossed my mind, whenever you did, i would just call it a bad dream.

though today i wish there was some love left between us.

the kind where we just care.

you hold my hand, kiss my temple, and tell me no more marks please.

i let you take a sip of my icy drink and ask how's your throat.

we might not love each other with the intensity to be together but no one said to throw away the shred of love that kept us connected at least.

[drunkaesthete]

100s of thoughts running all the time; some useless fears, some memories happy and sad, some ifs ,and some fantasies. none good enough to be poetry.