I'll walk forever with stories inside me that the people I love the most can never hear.
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To write relatably is a form of gift which God has given you to express unsaid thoughts or feelings for those who can't compose it distinctly.
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“Why do you write ?” she asked me perplexed.
Because I dream about adventures, even when I am awake.
Because I fell in love with the paper illuminated by a candlelight, the heroes of the past, stars, birds’ song, color, typewriter, the sound of my computer keyboard and many elements of this world. In other words, I fell in love with beauty captured by the feather.
Because I can experiment a thousand lives in the space of my room. My name was Rose Lancaster, a princess of fairy tales who loves the wrong man. I was Alistair Drihten, the famous time traveler. I solved murders under the identity of Alexandria, a student girl of a magic academy. I create universes which feel like home.
Because sometimes I want to scream at the world, cry until my eyes are dry, break walls or run to the end. Paper holds memories as well as feelings. It keeps all the things I didn’t have the courage to say.
I write because I don’t have the choice. If I don’t, I would disappear.
I am a writer !
But that is not what I said to her.
“I don’t know” I answered. And just like that, life returns to normal.
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The silence is loud, loud, and loud
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CROWDED TRAIN RIDES
We save the most intense conversations
For the crowded train rides back home.
Not the same home. Not now. Not ever.
We stand in between the bustling crowd,
Look out the window and avoid each other's eyes
You hum under your breath, and I pretend I didn't hear it
We talk about the day in moments.
Ones that made us laugh, ones that felt grateful,
And then about the ones we didn't think the other would notice.
That brings a smile to your face,
So I crack open my otherwise dark heart just a little.
To let that light inside. You smile again, and I break again.
I tell you things I wouldn't tell you when we're alone
In the silence of an empty road where you can hear my voice break
So I find comfort in the crowd muffling out my pain.
The train stops, and you forget it's time.
It's time for you to get down, that it's time for us to reset.
We hug, you get down, and I watch you walk away.
One of these days will be our final train ride like this
Where we talk about us.
And we'll get down, go home. Not the same. Not ever.
But maybe one that's just as loved.
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