End.

So this is how it ends.
Not the violence of peeled skin
Nor the shards of glass and fiber
No recriminations nor any relief.
No, it ends in silence.
A silence that’s cold, furious, stinging,
And quiet as death’s breath.

This decade starts
With bitter green tea
Ends diluted by drugs
in an inflamed body
And a silence that causes the heart to thump its existence.
Loudly.
Until that sound alone remains.
Life continues.
No one mourns.

About Bhumika's Boudoir

I love to laugh, and end up being a part of high drama and stormy emotion even when I don't pursue it. Being creative, and communicating with people get me going. I enjoy all the good things in life especially those that are slightly risque, and apologise little, if ever, for all that I do. Literature is a passion and so is music.
This entry was posted in Idle Thoughts. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to End.

  1. Harini Suresh Babu says:

    I wish this wasn’t so beautiful.

    Like

  2. Sigh! True… Life goes on!

    Like

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