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| 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