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Noted Nest

Letting Go But Hold

By Aastha Nagi



So im going to let of my arms that i layed out begging to get to hold you, to touch you. I let go of looking at my bed like you were on it with me i let go of doing everything as if you were watching i let go of this performance where youre the on the stage with me and you care and i let go of this performance in which youre clapping the hardest and smiling at me. I let go of it all 

Yet i hold onto the desire of you, the desire to sit in your grief in your missing, i hold onto the hope of having you one day, i hold onto the hope of you calling one random tuesday, i hold onto the hope of you having me someday, i hold onto the hope of you getting to know me, i hold onto the hope of you smiling because i changed your life, i hold onto the hope of you, i hold onto the hope of life. 

I hold onto the air of the music i miss you to, i hold onto the air the places i miss you in, i onto the air of the scent i wore when i met you, i hold onto the air of you, i hold onto to the air you breathe, i hold onto air. 

I hold onto my faith in god, i hold onto my faith in fate, i hold onto my faith in your stare , i hold my faith in your words, i hold onto my faith in your brothers opinion, i hold onto the faith of our destiny, i hold onto faith. 

I let go of my sinned bleeding hands working nakedly through needles trying to sew the fabric of our stars and affairs. I let go of my naked feet running behind the shadow of your silhouette, i let go of my abstaining fearful mind that is scared to let you go when you arent even there. 

I hold onto soul and energies and god and angels and everything beautiful and magical that you dont know made you, i hold onto the soul that will love you when body bleeds to death and mind dies, i hold onto the soul that knows when it knows, i hold onto my soul that recognizes your soul, i hold onto soul. 

So i let go of my controlled fingers pointing to shattering stars wishing of you and i hold onto every star of the night sky. 

And i hold onto the wait, and to the ever going clocks that will one day be paused and recorded and preserved in museums when my touch meets yours, i kiss you on your forehead, i melt into your arms and my lips meet yours. 


By Aastha Nagi



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