when i was standing in the middle of this rain puddle earlier tonight.i realised that's not water but my life scattered anf falling.out of my clouds
not in my hand but in earth.and the sweet fragrance of hers when the first drops touch her.and everyone who is buried underneath her blanket is blissed.away from this worldly hell.
YOU ARE READING
after i gave up
Poetrysomebody out there is writing about you and you lo! are reading it without realising tragic.
