The moon and I had lost each other on multiple occasions, I’ll silence my grief until you are pulling the stockings off my legs; the grief out of my body. Don’t let me go back to stillness, I’d rather melt than just remain there. The light was too harsh against my eyes you told me my eyes should remain closed. There is perpetual grief in the silence of light. You’d rather make me cry, You let me go back to the stillness. I’ll silence my grief until you are pulling the sweater off my back; Turning me colder than I threaten to be.
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Hi! I am Neha Thapar. I am an escapist who believes that Italy can cure my moods…I love the weathers and skies.