It's all about the pen that bleeds!❤️

  I wake up to some kisses and hugs, But these kisses and hugs are unfamiliar to me. The hugs are often warm, yet they make me feel cold. The kisses are often loud, yet they leave me silent. I receive love in abundance and care like a newborn. But every touch of love leaves a mark on me. It leaves me confused, surprised, and questioning my existence. Why wasn’t I this special to the world before— The way I am now? Am I still? Or is this just a glimpse into illusion— Something changing with time... isn't that what illusion is? ~ Aastha’s Poetic Pen

The feeling of being overwhelmed with anything is kind of a bliss, Not only when it’s positive but also negative—why? Let me tell you this. Whether I am dipped in melancholy or feel ecstasy beyond any limits, At least in those moments, my life feels fulfilled. Every now and then, we strive for more than what we own, Feeling overwhelmed with anything indeed is a complete zone. Feeling overwhelmed is also a feeling of being completely fulfilled, Yet we crave more and more and more—to be happy and thrilled.                                                                  ~Aastha! <3 The core message of this poem revolves around the paradox of feeling overwhelmed—how it can be both a burden and a blessing. It highlights that whether emotions are deeply melancholic or euphorically ecstatic, they bring a sense of fulfillment, m...

  Showed up to the terrace tonight, It was dark, but things weren’t alright. I looked up at the sky soon, Stars were there, but not the moon. The moon used to surprise me with a different face, Never knew one day it would just take away all its grace. Tears ran down my cheeks, and my eyes shined with light, Stars were bright, but the moon wasn’t there that night. I feared looking back at the blue sky afterwards, Every time I try to go to the terrace, it hurts. There were nights when the moon showed up, but I didn’t get to see, It used to get hidden sometimes in the clouds or behind a tall tree. I long to see it every morning, night, and even noon, I spend all day, thinking of my moon.                                                               ~Aastha!<3

Verse 1 There are many gardens, streets, and restaurants I’ve been to,     But I met you near a beach, a place I barely pass through.   I want to be with you from dawn till dusk, my love,   But the dawn and dusk stayed, and our love soared above.   Chorus I want to be with you from dawn till dusk, my love,   But the dawn and dusk stayed, and our love soared above.   Verse 2 My hand lacks your hand lately,   Your fingers locked with mine so tightly.   My heart is burning with fire without you,   I feel half-dead without the twin flame of us two.   Chorus I want to be with you from dawn till dusk, my love,   But the dawn and dusk stayed, and our love soared above.   Bridge  Stop the fire inside me, fall for me like the rain,   Quench this drought and ease the pain.   Your deprivation feels like a curse so cruel,   But I’m desperate, not...

  Yes, I do feel melancholy, maybe more than you can read it, But I am not so open to share when you ask everything bit by bit. My mood deteriorates when you interrogate me, I hate that you repeatedly remind me about it, but I appreciate your worry. How do I tell you without it sounding irrational? “It’s just me!” Because I am not happy, I don’t want to make you feel melancholy. At times, I dive into my past traumas and also jump to my future fears, Sharing them with anyone would make it big and also trigger the tears. Pretentious you are, trying to make me believe you’re enough understanding, I want you to first understand that it’s not important to share everything.                                                                    ~Aastha!<3

You see me fly, you see me wander, you see me explore, But the struggle my father endures for this is what people often ignore. I live a quality life because my father doesn't, I might agree to adjust at times, but for me, he wouldn't. I take more than a dozen flights a year and fly to places, Because my father drives the same sedan through countless phases. You see me wandering the world and posting myself alone, My father backs my trips and wanders with me through video calls on the phone. He never complains about my long bills or high-maintenance problems, He just cuts down on his small expenses and gives me all the freedom. He feels happy but also sad because he wants to give me more, But he never realizes that I feel the same emotion to my core. I am happy for the same reasons as he, but not similarly sad, I am living the life I want, but not him—that is what makes me feel bad. my father                          ...

  My hand lacks your hand lately, Your fingers locked with mine so tightly. My heart is burning with fire without you, I feel half-dead without the twin flame of us two. My ribs are turning to ashes, And so are my eyelashes. I want my eyes to flood out the tears in one go, But even my eyes feel so fierce, like an inferno. Your deprivation has led to a drastic drought, My eyes won’t flow, also choking my dry throat. As dry as my throat are the nerves of my body and brain, Stop the hell from rising inside me and fall for me like the rain. I am desperate, not for you but for the flame in you, You can call me crazy; that is what I become in deprivation of us two.                                                 ~Aastha’s poetic pen Here’s a breakdown of the key devices used:   1. Imagery      - The poem paints vivid pictures that appeal to the ...

  There is no possibility of us staying together, There might be a thousand reasons, but I’d stick to only one rather. You’re so white, and I am so black, Not my skin but the number of sins I carry in my backpack. You seem to be as white as a white-feathered fluffy swan, And I am the contaminated water in which you’d never feel calm. You seem to be as caring and considerate as nature is for bad beings, The window of your heart shows you only carry good intentions and soft feelings. But you’d have to stretch your arms about a hundred miles away, To hug someone like me, full of sins, with the devil as the god I pray. I have zero guilt to spoil and stain a pure personality, But touching someone like you seems out of my ability. The meter of your acceptance towards me may be higher than what I know, My admiration for you will never end; I’ll try to be like you- the wait is long, and time is slow. Let me name myself undeserving for you and for others like you, Let me call you a dream, b...