Touch.


Please read and enjoy the work of a talented writer.

Tamanna Malhotra

​The winds on the field tell me tales, you see.
How love is stolen from the world like the shadows from the light, or the leaves from the trees in the fall. How the merciless barriers of hearts and minds, and oceans, and roads, and vast distances slap love like a withering bird, drowning in fire.
When you choose to give away happiness to someone, you must give away a part of your soul, and you must give away a chunk of your existence. When you choose to heal another broken mirror, you must learn to watch the blood drip from your skin.
The countless attempts you’re making to clear your head by washing your hair or to put your life into place by putting your things into place on the right shelves in the right drawers, or cleaning up your filthy past by sweeping floors are indeed falling apart.

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