When I write

I Drown My Sorrows,
in a Poem of Words.
Painting on a Canvas,
a few Colorful Words.
Her Memories still stand,
in this Heart of Mine.
Her Memoirs I've Written,
in a Red Book of Mine.

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My heart gets connected to my pen.

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I always thought about the moment we spent together
I always remembered the time you cried when they hurt me
Now,
I think to remember you

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slaved feelings splatter
like bottled ink.
Staining the sheets
I clean up my mess.

When I write
I live a little happier
like the dot on i.
Detaching from the
world, I attach to me.

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I'm emotionally blackmailed
By my passion;
To starve my eyes of sleep
And to make my stomach
Sleep until I'm done
Gobbling on words!

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I feel audacious
'cause otherwise inherently, I'm not;

I become a curator
of the chaos inside me,
stand at a point blank range of myself,
stalk the dark corners of my
fears and vulnerabilities,
and then it happens
boom!
words start to jump and bellow
shaping into intense formations,
not necessarily structured
but definitely
gutsy and venturous.

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I don't keep anything in my mind
Keep writing until it feels aligned.
Writers are not born
They keep on writing and their words adorn.

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I am being traversed to those
Mysterious and delighted
Magnificent field of transcendental experience
Where my words turn gold in
The alchemy of my oblivious
Space ,
Ironed in embalmed connectedness
Not to rust on the pages of time
But to drink the milk of
Paradise where verses flow
Whispering immortality.

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I don't know why your are always my first thought......

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I think writing is not my proffesion.
It is my passion.and I wrote anything.

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