Bookworm. Poet. Story-teller.
“I don’t know what I must write to undo what I have done to you. I couldn’t live to see you around me being unfair to your own life.” Sucking on the end of her pen, she read it again and then struck it out. It lacked emotion. “No words wish to come out of…
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When I’m gone… baby, walk the meadows, where the dew tickled our toes where we’d lie for hours consumed with love in that moment, I’ll be with you ♥ When I’m gone… baby, sit by the pond, we’d toss pebbles into and watched them leave ripples on the surface in that moment, I’ll be with…
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On the loneliest days, when living’s hard to do, infused with pensive longing, your letters carry your smell, and also the reason for wanting to breathe again ~~~~~~~ Asha Seth
Read More“Oh, her? Writing letters is just her way to show off that she is better than others”, said a colleague. The way words scar you and leave you hurting inside, only words can do. Sometimes, I wonder about things people talk. Mostly, when they talk things you least expect to hear. That is one reason I prefer books…
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Often, days seem long and my patience starts to wear off. It’s never like this the days when you are home. I keep myself engaged in chores and leave your thoughts at bay. Attending to them only when they seem restless. Minutes seem like hours and the hands of the clock are ticking away. Slowly, I…
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Asha Seth 