Then how come it isn’t?

Friends, if you like reading my work, do share it with your friends (on whatever social media you deem appropriate). Please help my infinity grow bigger ∞


The last time I kissed her, I kissed her with a little more passion than our lungs could hold on to. I let my hands pull her in, and my eyes close to make sure I remembered what she was like.
She tasted like a Monday morning I didn’t hate and dirty coffee mugs of the night before. She tasted like grocery shopping where we ended up with just a stick of gum, and the cashier gave our smiles and giggles a weird glance cause clearly we shouldn’t shop at 3 A.M? She tasted of sunrays and tanned skin, and of crazy ways to seduce each other. She tasted like a cold November night on the terrace with my arms around her and her head on my chest and our eyes on the stars. She tasted like broken frames and mended hearts and salty tears and not being able to stay apart.
She reminded me of the time I ran my fingers through her hair, and she ran her fingers through the knots in my souls. She reminded me of the time I kissed her salty skin right after coming out of the sea, and her fingers holding onto my wet hair and pulling me in. She reminded me of sleeping all day and watching Barney all night. She reminded me of soft chuckles, and loud moans.
She was my ‘Irish’ coffee and she was the Rachel to my Ross. She reminded me of moonlight on her knees as I trailed my fingers up. She reminded me of empty bottles and half-eaten snickers. She reminded me of promises that smelled of chocolate cookies and assurances of being in Wonderland if I ever fell again.
She tasted like an eternity and reminded me of the fault in our stars. We could not end up together, but we did have a bigger infinity than we ever imagined we could have. She was the Robin to my Barney and the little forever she gave me was legen – wait for it – dary.
Didn’t you think you’d meet someone, fall in love and that’d be it?


Previous post : Fairy-tale love.
Related post : Kisses and cravings.

Fairy-tale love.

Friends, if you like reading my work, do share it with your friends (on whatever social media you deem appropriate). Also, Happy Valentine’s Day!


“Someday you”ll be old enough to start reading fairy-tales again.” – C.S. Lewis

He was real. She didn’t think he would be.
The first time he laughed,
it was like fireworks in the night sky.
She could look at him and
see all the hues of emotions that colored his skin
as his lips curled from one end to another.
She could hear the waterfalls crashing hard against the broken stones
as he giggled like a child who’d just found a new toy.
She felt his chuckle spread warmth to her cheeks and
the corner of her eyes creased
like the white shirt he was wearing.
It was beautiful.
He was beautiful.

He always kept his word.
He made the chocolate chip cookies he had promised on a Sunday morning,
and he stayed while I cried at 3:04 am.
He expressed himself with a tint of mystery,
but with no boring exaggeration.
He wrote me letters,
on tiny post-its
The words he wrote, are probably what my favorite novel holds.
He made me breakfast,
And took me out on dates.
He had the exotic manners
of a fuckboy,
and the raw sexuality
of one, too.
But he had the intentions of a wallflower,
the introvert with faith rimmed spectacles,
and a love stained tee.

He could cook my favorite Madeleines.
He could dance,
And spin me around in circles till I fall into his arms,
As he picks me up and we make out,
On the way to bed.
I knew he was my fairy-tale love,
When we grabbed me by the waist,
pushed me against a wall, and held my hands above my head,
Looked me in the eye till I couldn’t just look anymore,
I kissed him for the first time.
And my foot just pops up.


Previous post : Stay.
Related post : Cinderella’s shoes.

It would be amazing to have more people reading my compositions. Please help my infinity grow bigger ∞

 

Awards.

Hey!

So, there are certain awards that go around on the blog like the Liebster Awards, the Sunshine Blogger Awards etc.
I don’t do these award posts because I just want to deliver my work. But I’ve been thinking lately that it’ll be unfair to the bloggers I could’ve nominated. So this is just a post for thanking the people who have nominated me, and for nominating a fellow blogger for every award I’ve skipped.
Thank you “The Tale Of An Unlikely Warrior“, “The Dream Girl Writes” and “Memoirs In Coal” for the Liebster awards. Thank you “The Sehrish Thing” and “Little Lost One” for the Sunshine Blogger awards. Do check them out!

My nominations (Type of award, link to the post for rules)

Thank you for the amazing work you’re putting out here!

Connect with me on Instagram : Utsav

Kudos ∞

Stay.

Just read it till the end, please! ❤


Hey.
Goodbyes can be such a pain in the ass.
I’m not ready for it.
I cannot believe that
Your intoxicating eyes
Won’t be my morning sun anymore.
Your heavy breath
Won’t to be the first thing
You share with me anymore.
We won’t enjoy long walks,
And windy drives,
Crazy fights and funny sights anymore.

I’m not ready for it.
I cannot let go of you.
Memories won’t suffice.
I remember the time we first met.
You hugged me, and kinda danced too.
The first day we spent together,
Ice cream and chill,
Our favourite thing.
The first time we got wet
As it rained,
And you taught me how much fun it could be.
I’m drunk all the time,
You make me sober.

I am not ready for it.
I need you.
I need to hold your hands
As if they were a part of me.
I need you to brighten my days,
And lonely dark nights.
Eating won’t be fun anymore,
Without you around to steal my food.
Who will be my alarm clock,
The only one I never want to snooze?

I am not ready for it.
I’m drunk all the time,
You make me sober.
You’re not just a pet
Your family.
Don’t die on me.


Previous post : Writer’s Block.
Related post : Snow.

Friends, if you like reading my work, do share it with your friends (on whatever social media you deem appropriate). It would be amazing to have more people reading my compositions. Please help my infinity grow bigger ∞

Writer’s block

So, what is writer’s block?

Do you remember that time
when his little finger grazed your wrist,
amidst the whispered conversation,
steady eye contact, and
lip gazing?
How you stuttered on the next word,
fumbled between your thoughts,
trying to forget the shiver
running up your spine, like
a dew drop on the foggy window?
You just could not remember
what you had to say next.

Do you remember that cliff,
the “What if you fly” split seconds,
the hopes for a wonderland,
an escape from this cruel world,
at the bottom of the fall?
You wanted to shout out to the mountains,
and hear them talk in response,
for they really were the best listeners.
You opened your mouth,
but no words came out,
what did you have to say?

Do you remember that stage,
your first audience,
all those gawking eyes,
on your dried lips,
and anxious eyes.
Your heart beating so loud,
the mic would’ve probably caught it ,
had you not held it high enough.
Do you remember the struggle,
to remember just the first damn word?

It’s almost like that.
But don’t worry,
I don’t believe in a dam being strong enough
to hold back the tsunami of my words.
I don’t believe in writer’s block.


Previous post : Bare waists and midriffs.
Related post : Tsunami

Friends, if you like reading my work, do share it with your friends (on whatever social media you deem appropriate). It would be amazing to have more people reading my compositions. Please help my infinity grow bigger ∞