Why I Write

Her life is full of promises yet she couldn’t grasp it. Time was her only friend yet she was too inpatient to wait. She envisioned her life with everything she felt. But as those around her are given what they want and know who they want to be, only frustrated her into trying other things; leaving behind her pen and pad.  She contemplated her life away until a new day came. Her mind was full of chapters, each with its own title; it’s own way of ending. She searched for answers but didn’t get them. She knows she is going somewhere but she didn’t know which direction to take. She tried so many things; studied different types of subjects yet only enjoyed those that brought out her creativity and challenged her imagination.

Her aura was a splendor; mixed with beauty, pain, and experience. Her mind was like a camera; it captured every little piece of this world. She was able to edit it, making it so raw and vivid with the way she expressed her emotions in those capturing moments by just using her imagination and words. She felt if she dedicated herself more she could help those whose minds are closed, and help them open and realize there’re is more to what the eye is just seeing. She wanted too bring people to the state of connecting with their inner emotions and not cloud them. She wanted to show love the way she saw it and believed it was. To be able to show the way a traumatizing moment can become a beautiful poem. So she began to write for that reason. As an escape from a world around her and a welcome to a new world her mind imagines and sees.

Writing was a way to release her ideas, creativity, fantasies that played over and over in her mind; making it’s own scenes and scenarios. She was so quiet yet so loud in her mind as she wrote everything down. She loved that feeling. From everything she has experienced, saw, observed, wished to see; she expressed it. She stopped searching but became patient and lost within her writing for it made her feel as if it was like a warm summer day floating on the crystal clear ocean, relaxed. Letting her body float with each song of the current moving her to a rhythm that made her sane.

by, apoetswish

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Why I Write

Creative Writing |