No matter the wreckage

They said that in order to be a great writer, you need to write everyday, even on days when you feel uninspired or have nothing good to say.

And so here I am – a head full of wired noises that don’t make any sense.

Simple questions throw me back these days. Like today when a friend casually asked about my recent trip to Thailand.

Sometimes I think I build such thick walls of defense mechanism and when people chisel bits and pieces away, I am struck with terror at the indecent amount of raw emotions I carry around with such care.

Life is a manic parade and people exhaust me. So I shy away into reclusiveness but trying to be my own best friend tires me out more.

Humans are the oddest creatures. In the way that we are blessed with tongues but choose to use it on spewing wicked words that serve no other purpose than to hurt those with love with cruel intentions.

And so I hold my tongue. And in the process I have forgotten how to speak.

It is like returning back in time where no language existed. How we used tongues to kiss to express our innermost desires. Our bodies to communicate, our expressions the words.

What I am asking of you is to read me like your favourite book. To gaze intently at me like your favourite painting. To hold me like your favourite pen, and draw me with your strongest desires.

Words have faltered me once again and there is so much one can hold onto before the pieces start falling apart. So it would be nice if we could just sit here in silence. And you can hold my hand and tell me everything will be okay in the end.

They said that in order to be a great writer, you need to write everyday, even on days when you feel uninspired or have nothing good to say.

It goes the same for love.

In order to be loved, you need to love everyday, even on days when you feel tired or on the brink of losing faith.

Hold on. It can’t rain everyday.

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