Come, cry with me.
Accompany me.
Let us sit on that old-cold bench together.
With the head uplifted towards the dark sky, let us cry those tears dying to roll down the curves, together and paint the blue, the apparent black airspace even darker with the smoke of our burning souls.
With no anticipation of solace from each other,
just much of ranting, grumping and tears flowing.
Make it as sad as much you’ve encountered, felt and undergone.
Listen to the dark affairs I had with my life and make my ears go sore with the bitter-unsweetened escapades of yours.
Shout to me the sins you’ve made and make my blood boil to the top but remember to calm it down the very next moment by letting me know how remorseful you are and the million good things you did to set it all right.
Ask me about my wickedness and how evil I once was.
Let us confess about how mean our closest people were with us.
Let the air surrounding us shout out our pains loud.
Let the dust particles in it captivate our low spirits.
Let that air take hold of us real tight and choke us using our own stories.
Maybe, it will treat the sadness and the projected toughness inside us.
It is only after we let it all out, a little killed part of our soul takes rebirth.
And leaves us with happiness. (For time being).
Maybe, just someone listening to the loudest of the screaming and
howling -‘peacefully’-is the only cure.
Find someone to vent it all out with.
Come, cry with me.
Could you? 

Picture Credits.

-Ananya, the verbal seduction.💓

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