Writer's Whispers

B R E A T H E

Please,

Allow me to tread the turbulent waves of my fantasies

Crashing against bays of non-existence in my head.

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Please,

Just permit me,

To muse at the paintings that the words of poets and authors paint...

The words that only dreamers can decipher.

'''

Please let me be,

Let me be me,

And choose to have the fluff of clouds

Tickle my chin...

Because,

I'm scared of what all my senses are perceiving,

The pain I see,

The sadness I hear,

The hurt I feel from touching hardened hearts,

The bad odour of ignorance in the air and

The sour taste of never being understood that my taste buds are getting accustomed to.

Utopia,

Is only a dream,

But as long as it is within reach - in my head,

Then that's where I need to visit

In order to breathe.

A/N: Writing is escape.