His dark eyes met hers and she saw it, the shuttered expression; a mask he all of a sudden decided to wear so that no one could even get a sniff of what was actually running through his mind.
So it was pointless to ask her. It would feel nothing less than using his own hands to rub salt on his fresh wounds.
Somehow he found an escape in sketching, a medium to keep going and get through one day after the other without letting his dark thoughts consume him completely..........
But belongs in vast blue sea
This fragile paper can take those words, those qualms, fears and worries.
Too soon to leave Comforting cocoon of darkness and desolation.
Like yours, and mine too.
Few learn to live but
Maybe we love nights because...
Change is inevitable Still we fret in its terror