Don't worry, old self.
Laughter comes easy again. So does sleep.
It still cracks your heart but doesn't cut as deep.
More resilient like a vine that survived the harshest winter,
leaves don't fall so quickly now. You branch out.
It takes more to shake you. To de-center.
You find yourself bouncing back faster,
and the memories-- no longer your master.
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
Every Last Drop
कविताfor hard times. for the lonely late nights. and the tears we cry. every last drop. * all rights reserved
