The worse , worse than the parting
We don’t exist
We can’t exist
And yet we do exist
Somewhere in the sips of coffee
Between the closing and opening
Of the elevators
In the lost pings of sns messages
Hummed with beats of songs
All these are so cliched
The sighs are so clichéd
We can’t grieve or mourn
No one died
Feelings live and breathe
They fog our brains
But, our hearts beat
Heart goes about it’s daily routine
Blood pours out of it
The heart is a gaping wound now
The day it heals
Is the day we die.