From The First Letter To You

"To the man I loved, to the man who said he loved, who tried, but couldn't. " Written on 18th November 2023. The last time i ever wrote this, to this person. I'm worth more than all of him. "You are poetry in human form, the difference - you love poetry already created by someone else and loved by others, and, I create my own, loving them<3 Thankyou for existing ( but i wish you didn't exist.)

The long lost first crush of a 7 year old heart

The story where I tumbled upon a person and later - my twin flame. A beautiful constellation on him and safe to say - we wish on the stars, cause they burn.

Pyar-vyar, ishq-vishq. And none of these ever happening- but you know, love is wanting the person and ishq- just loving from far away and write poetries over you. Dear Mr Muse- I'll use you to be there.

This was an incoherent talk with the love of my life - Augustus Waters, who I met about 8 years ago and who would've been 26 by now. And before anyone starts telling me how much y'all love him too: please don't say. There's a thing: you can't love anyone like i do nor can I love like you do and it'll be an offence at most, to tell anyone we love them alike. So, dear Mr Waters- I'm glad to exist in a world where your existence is acknowledged<3

"I hate you" my almost immediate reaction to everything these days and I hate to tell you this. Ironically, I'm going on taunting you while in reality i never wanted to. The 'you' here is, let's just assume, 'person z,' and I hate genz. Okay maybe, this was a little too harsh but I'll speak to you again.

"Every letter is a love story " is the first, or the demo episode of the new series titled "From the first letter to you.". It's a series of me describing how I wrote letters, to impossible friendships, to potential homes, to lovers, to past traumas, and drenched my heart out a lot of times.. but never received one back: and maybe that's okay. I want to write and speak about people, speak about them raw but there are people who'd done so wrong to me, that it seems like I shouldn't give them a chance to be alive in any of my art, "but darlin' you made a poet cry, you made an artist bleed, so expect yourself to be shown, striped naked by her eyes. "

It's a spoken letter from an elder sister to a younger one. Filled with words of annoyance and laughter and well, love.

Sometimes our mind gets numb and we unable to go back to the previous things and feel back things. Maybe it's all for a reason. And all okay.

It's a weird time and I've got weird rules with me. I can't just do all those which all does, or shows they does. It feels out of the zone at times but I'm saying that it should be always okay. Cause, you'll see everything falling into place once they does.