Joy is in the little moments
The small smiles
The patterns I pick up
It's the way the day
Isn't erased
After our goodbyes

Sadness without a reason is the worst because how do you solve a problem without a cause?

"Here is my heart and soul," she said.
Out on the cold table she laid
her all. He whispered, "I'll place your needs above
all mine." Little did she know he lied.
He played a little and tossed it aside.
Yet, somehow, she still believes in love.

©Aastha

I watch the house come down
like a vengeful wave crashing
against my barefoot shore.

I don't know if
I wore my grey shirt
or the blue one with checks.

I can't tell from the dust caking
my chest; beating loudly I
put my hand to it

as if searching for my heart
in the shirt pocket;
I fumble

and feel nothing there.
I'd kept a picture of you there
in the breastpocket of my grey shirt

close to my heart.
And not any more, but a familiar ache;
left are these buttons of your last touch

and your breath in these threads.
You don't know that once you breathed into the sky
it just wasn't yours to take away.

His smile is contagious
his laugh unforgettable,
his personality unbeatable.
The stars do not compare
to his beauty, the beating
of the waves on the beach
have nothing on the thrill
he gives my heart.
My lips smile like a
fools' at the sight of
him. It's not love,
but infatuation still, my
emotions refuse to
differentiate. When
I was a little girl, I'd say
he gave me butterflies
But now as I'm older,
I can say those butterflies
have turned into gigantic
butterflies that feed on
my sanity. I have
all but confessed my
unyielding love upon him.
I pray to God he can't
read  my mind for I
would dig a six foot
hole to bury myself.

I had to last a week with my personal satan.
Hell on earth, the only thing life was lacking
was the burning pit.

I've heard of  having the pleasure
of finding your true love. They say
nothing else matters to you once your
eyes meet. The songs say that you
would do anything to have the presence
of your soul mate with you.
The movies show two halves becoming
a whole.
Reality isn't so poetic. The movies
and songs didn't inform me of the
negative sides of love.
They didn't tell me how bad it
would continuously hurt if you
lost the one you thought you loved.
My favorite quote doesn't
relate to how ****** I feel a night
when I know he is just fine.
Or maybe I'm too young to know of
love. Whatever it is, it hurts just
the same.

I cannot stop writing about you. Every little thing I can remember, I've written it down.
I've written you down.
A permanent stain on these sheets.