Loss is the heavy breathing whispering in my ears.
In the dark night, in the cold road where I stand alone.

Loss is the weight depressing my shoulders.
Arresting me for every two steps I take.

Loss is the fist pinching that hole, I have in my heart.
Loss is the family, I fear of leaving.
Loss is the man, I fear of repelling.

I dug a ditch deep down my soul.
A crack to let light in.
Though loss came as sand, sealed my light.

Loss is the old creepy tree.
I try to root out of my garden.

Written by Lubaba Faisal Ali
Featured image is a painting from 1911 by the American artist John Singer Sargent (oil on canvas)


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