Undone, falling apart in Gershwin’s Rhapsody.

Howling, weeping, sobbing the pain,

owning the grief, feeling it on the edge of perdition.

Drowning in loss.

As the crescendo of the horn slowly pulling every nerve to breaking, has me begging for mercy, I choke, doubled over in a moan that can’t be mine.

No comfort, no respite, alone with crazy pain.

About emmylgant

Cloud watcher and dreamer sometimes wise, often foolish, but I am what I am.
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