|via Lady Night Stalker|
The house hums with moonshine.
Grief abounds, like a slate grey smoke it rises, seeps out from multiple corners of the heart and in a slow motion take, settles on everything.
Long forgotten strain filters through, almost audible, mixes with the moonshine and in no time, a complete symphony is ready to bleed you dry. You are drowning in it. The elusive, unexplained variety of heartache, inexplicably embraces you. The only hug, you would perhaps get, in a long long time.
Please, let’s discount the hugs; YOU have been giving yourself…
Copyright © Neerja Yadav