Rock my corpse like a baby in a cradle ☔︎︎ 𓅪

When grief calls us in , It feels like unembodied arms of rotting fleshes caressing us , bounded by a city where crows hover , and sorrow engulfs , where the land of burgeoning flowers and broken laughter now lies , deceased.

The worst typing of weeping is not the one which can be seen and wiped off one’s face.

It is the pounding of your soul , the pain so feeble, that all the comfort in the world feels cold to touch , to keep.

It is a privilege to grieve , because it shows that all the heart does is love.

It is because of love that we flourish and in the end combust into pieces beyond our understanding.

Without them , even a crowded room is perceived as a beacon of everlasting emptiness.

Grief is not as palpable as regret ,

Its worse ,

It takes away more from you .

I think humans are scarlet from within

Cause they bleed at every emotion they feel.

And isn’t it so amusingly sad?

How we so quickly move on from the death of someone who we once swore was our whole world folded into a fragile body.

I think grief is most felt ,

When our hands go numb , words stop flowing ,

And all we do is feel ,

When life stops coming from within us,

Once our pain becomes infinite.

              - Prachi dhawan