Astha

astha, 18, tattooed heart; ig : asthhaa

[perfectquote]

“Nothing in nature blooms all year. Be patient with yourself.”

— Unknown

[morelifealways-deactivated20240]

the idea of coming home to the love of your life is so soothing and nice I can’t wait to look forward to that

[uponthisearth]

the morning love wakes up and decides to say goodbye

the news, a meteor crash outside my bedroom window, sounds merely like a loud thud on the ceiling above me. I leave the butter knife on the kitchen counter, from buttering the croissants earlier, and walk towards the living room. the tv plays an infomercial about another extravagant gardening tool I do not need but I watch, without for a second looking away from the screen. All of our windows are open and the sun casts a shadow on the yoga mat that sits in the corner eating dust. we let it be. I notice a small crack on the flower vase I bought from the market this morning and for a second I can see my heart lying on the floor near his weirdly shaped feet. nothing but the sound of asystole. this is not how I pictured it go down in my head a hundred different times. in one reality, I’m screaming into my steaming cereal bowl while you continue to set my room on fire. in another, I’m closing all the doors so you cannot walk away. in one reality, however, I’m trying to tell you that this is not the end of our days. that you are simply giving up on too much history and I cannot recognize your voice. but I cannot because my voice ceases to be. here, I don’t because I choose not to. this pain is so huge in my body that I cannot feel the hurt anymore. please close the door before you go. “can you water the plants on your way out? I’m tired.” the room feels bigger than it was before. I’m going to take a nap. 

{ astha }

[1-7-7-1-deactivated20250411]

“I look at her and light goes all through me.”

— Charles Bukowski, from Selected Letters: 1965-1970 v. 2 (via z3nn)

[lifeinpoetry]

“i found god in myself / & i loved her/ i loved her fiercely”

— Ntozake Shange, from For colored girls who have considered suicide/When the rainbow is enuf

[teafulbisexual]

my aesthetic? tea and little cakes on the front porch of a cottage in the woods while rain runs off the roof infront of us

[drearydaffodil]

Loud music and bright

Blurry lights, trying to feel

Like somebody else

[daisylongmile]

“Every story becomes a love story when it mentions you. You, balancing diner silverware on your nose when the table conversation got too heavy. You, whisperer of the neighbor’s dog, who I swear would have followed you home. The world gets too loud, and we’ll eat deli sandwiches by the dock without a word. The world gets too quiet, and we’ll stay awake singing. Crooning to the moon and complimenting her blushing dimples. Your name, an anthology with no end page. You, a human sunrise, a magic 8 ball’s only resounding yes, the only person I miss when they’re still right here.”

— Schuyler Peck, Magic 8 Ball (via schuylerpeck)

[uponthisearth]

raindrops on my bedroom window, the soft smell of wet sand, the sound of a thousand thunderstorms in my head and my heart, my body tangled up in the sheets, refusing to get up; the city reminds me of you tonight. 255 days and this melancholy has dug its claws deeper into me and has found its way to my bones. I can no longer fall asleep with your voice still echoing in the back of my mind while the sky weeps in remembrance. I no longer count our days under the sun because our grey skies have always outlived our yellow skies and for once, that was enough reason for us to pack up and find another place that reminded us of this disaster that we called home. we never talked about how we kept thinking of each other as band-aids and ointment when we were both, the wound and the reason behind it. tell me why we never talked about that one night in december when you drank too much and cried over the phone for 20 minutes. I never told you that I listened to the sound of your breathing till 4 AM after that or that I cried myself to sleep later that day because I'd rather hear the sound of my own heart breaking a million times than hear you cry. I filled my garden with orchids and lilies the next day because in the midst of you crying like a baby, you told me that they reminded you of your father. I know a broken heart when I hear one, I know yours whenever you talk about him. nowadays, the distance between you and I has started to feel so heavy that I patiently wait for you to make your way to our front door. I know that we promised each other to lock the door and throw the keys away but I feel like I'm crushed under the weight of a thousand worlds crumbling down on me on the loneliest tuesday and only you know how to fix that. so when you knock on this door for the millionth time, I'll hang the "welcome, home" banners and smile for you with every step you take because you have always made home come alive and I have never known better.

Astha (uponthisearth.tumblr.com)

[meganfalleypoet]

“I just know she makes me feel like I could win the lottery with a parking ticket.”

— Andrea Gibson, from Lord of the Butterflies (via buttonpoetry)

[schuylerpeck]

“Mistakes and failures are for learning”, “If who you are doesn’t make you happy, you can and should strive to change yourself, because you are not a fatality”, “Love is not wanting, it’s wanting to offer”, and then there’s this painful lesson: “Sometimes you’re not what another person needs, and you should let go. Let yourself mourn and move on.”

Oooh I love the one about love is wanting to offer. thank you!

[tristealven]

“Every once in a while God takes away my poetry. I look at the stone, I see a stone.”

— Adélia Prado

[daisylongmile]

“EVERYTHING HURTS AND NO ONE IS TELLING ME HOW TO HEAL. I MEDITATE WITH ROSE QUARTZ RESTING IN MY PALMS. I EAT MORE BANANAS. I MAKE A SPELL WITH BAT’S WINGS AND DANDELION WATER. SOMETHING HAS TO WORK, BUT I AM WAITING, AT THE END OF MY ROPE, BRAIDING MY HAIR INTO BROKEN, TWISTED CUSPS OF THREAD, IN A DESPERATE WAY OF BEGGING THE UNIVERSE TO PUT ME SOMEWHERE SAFE. FEED ME TABLESPOONS OF EASY BREATHING. HOLD ME CLOSE TO YOUR SUNLIGHT.”

— Schuyler Peck, 18/30 POET TURNS BEGGAR. (via schuylerpeck)

[uponthisearth]

i. we flip through old photographs and I can remember each moment as clear as day

- the dew on the swing set in the park near your house,

the cigarette in your hand even at 4 in the morning,

the smoke rings from your mouth mixing with the fog,

your smile brighter than the light that we thought we saw at the end of this tunnel.

ii. I place my hand on my heart and feel my heart beating like a thousand sirens going off at once,

like a cry for help that noone, except me, will ever know,

like a warning bell telling me to run away before it's too late.

iii. It is too late.

iv. I think of her often, the girl who will love you when the universe has given up on us. will she trace your freckles and love you more for them or will she find the way that you roll your eyes after every argument annoying?

v. I hope she likes her coffee with more sugar and sings you to sleep on rainy days and Mondays.

vi. especially on Mondays.

vii. I ask you if this love meant as much to you as it did to me. you laugh, shake your head and call me delusional.

viii. I pray to god that you never get tired of listening to my voice.

ix. I'll stop writing these poems the moment you're gone and your laughter has left every corner of my mind.

x. I'll stop even if it doesn't. they never mean anything to you anyway.

Astha

[daisylongmile]

“I want tea cups, hot tea. I want my hair long and to stop breaking at the ends and for big Sunday breakfasts out in the grass until the sky starts falling like snow at our feet. I want to laugh a lot, too much and too often and to be kissed twice as much, and to always kiss back. I want to walk barefoot on the moss, the Autumn-ridden leaves of the forest floor. I want a child’s giggle and their sailboat imagination and the warm, soft skin of a lover waking beside me in the morning. My God, I think I want to live.”

— – Schuyler Peck, Living A Little Longer (via schuylerpeck)

[vanish]

(x)

[teenagecrush]

“Never date anyone you couldn’t dance with around your living room.”

—