Unknown, Unnamed;
If only I could tell you how grief guises itself to sustain;
If only I could tell you how impossible and unfathomable escape sounds sometimes;
If only my wistful sobs and tears could speak for themselves;
If only...*sigh*

Seconds turn into minutes,
Minutes into hours;
The yearning never ends.
It's true,
There's much I haven't spoken,
The hurt hides behind the smile you see everyday;
The aversion, behind frustration;
I hang, even as I write,
between disapprovals.

© पारोमिता