yajatsingh - Tumblr blog

[yajatsingh]

mere khayalon mein teri baaton ke siwa kuch bhi nahi mere batuye mein teri photo ke siwa kuch bhi nahi

[yajatsingh]

Don't leave yet, darling, for I don't feel like I've kissed you enough.

Even though there's no place I've missed, but your body is my home.

Sheet me with your body, hold my wrist, set me on fire

Close my eyes, hurt me with love

Will there be no more tomorrows with your fingers tracing my face?

Or the nights where my home is your chest?

What if memories of us fade away?

No forest will ever rival the breathlessness

You bestow upon me; without you, only echoes of longing remain.

Books gather dust in my drawer, a guitar languishes on your shelf,

Their stories and melodies untouched by daylight.

Who will read? Who will sing?

How can you go with the memory of my visage haunting your thoughts?

As the summer sun still bathes the day in its warmth.

Who will yearn for me? Who will I bring into my embrace?

Tears unshed, desires unspoken,

You've yet to unleash the storm within.

How Do You Stop Your Heart From Breaking?

(🍑 maraye dil, main pehle ja raha hoon pineapple juice peene🧃)

[yajatsingh]

Arey bhai par earthy tone ki kurti aur white dupatta aur dome shape waale jhumke aur t-strap waali safed chappal pehnne waali ladki ke saath ghoomne jaana toh main bhi deserve karta hoon.

[yajatsingh]

Even after all is said and done, there’s always something else, we paused to look at each other, only to not recognise the face that so causally used to take rounds of our daydreams. We loved each other. But love is never enough. Love is not all.

[yajatsingh]

Her strawberry lipgloss stains my cheeks and fills the air with cherry, I want to kiss the air around her mouth. Blueberry cheesecake and kisses, I want to eat blue logoon under cold moon. Her cigarette-flicking fingers, I want them in my mouth. We walk, hands intertwine memories settle in her calves, hand pillow and body blanket, I massage, we kiss and reminisce, till she falls asleep.

[yajatsingh]

Her strawberry lipgloss stains my cheeks and fills the air with cherry, I want to kiss the air around her mouth. Blueberry cheesecake and kisses, I want to eat blue logoon under cold moon. Her cigarette-flicking fingers, I want them in my mouth. We walk, hands intertwine memories settle in her calves, hand pillow and body blanket, I massage, we kiss and reminisce, till she falls asleep.

[yajatsingh]

I miss your false promises which didn't seem so false then. I miss my truth which you always considered a pretence. I hate that you were right.

[yajatsingh]

We all love smartness. We love it when people call us smart. But are we really smart?

Over the years I have realised that there are different kinds of smartness. Academic smartness is when you clear multiple exams with little effort. Then there is people smartness where you know how to manoeuvre different emotions and people. Also there is street smartness and so on. 

But the more you have experiences in life the more you’ll understand that smartness is knowing when to exit. How much to give in to academics, people, relationships, society but more importantly when to stop. Smartness is knowing that RoI should always be positive and happiness should always be maximised. 

via the internet dot com

[yajatsingh]

I'll weave in like sunlight through parted curtains, gently caressing your face, warming your heart, and painting hues in your eyes. You'll come to notice the delicate details of your own hands. And in that moment, I'll make you believe that everything is destined to be alright. And, truly, it will be.

[yajatsingh]

She knows how I breathe; she’s learned to breathe as I exhale.

[yajatsingh]

I am not who I want to be with her; I am who I am with her.

[yajatsingh]

I hope we both find solace in drifting away from those who fail to reciprocate our love.

[yajatsingh]

It’s not fair to her; it’s completely wrong. But I hope, in some greater sense, in a way that I'm too madly in love with someone else to see, and she's too foolishly in love with me to understand, that she will get it. I hope she does.

[yajatsingh]

I am not who I want to be with her; I am who I am with her. Maybe that’s why I don’t love her? Or myself?

[yajatsingh]

She knows how I breathe; she’s learned to breathe as I exhale. She’s timed it perfectly to move her lips where my face will turn as we sleep. She understands my silences on the phone. She knows how much sugar.

[yajatsingh]

Within the nuances of love—the quiet, messy fragments—I've shared myself entirely with her. Or rather, she’s opened me up. I don’t know what she means to me, but within the boundless expanse of the universe, she would hold greater meaning than anything I choose to hold dear. I would never share the same sentiment.

[yajatsingh]

I've never brought her flowers or baked goods, nor offered my heart in my palms, as she’s always extending hers to me. I've never made grand gestures for her as I have for others to profess my love. I’ve never declared my love, but myself.