Rosētum

Writing.

What's so bewitching about writing is that it absolutely has no limits, it extends far off like the sky does, it changes colour, sometimes it's blue, sometimes it's black, other times it's even purple or pink.

I can lay my eyes on one object, I can feel a certain feeling, whether it's the sun shining on my face, or if it's the cold breeze of the sea birthing life in me, I can feel all of that and mold it into words, words that come to life, words that if you scrutinize well enough, you can feel like you're standing where I'm standing, feeling what I'm feeling, doing whatever it is I'm doing.

It's healing, I can open the cage that's located in my chest, I can unravel the chains, the chains that restrict me from soaring high and embracing all the colours, I can transform the tears that fall onto the paper  and mold them into raw emotions, I can transfer the merriness in my smile to a permanent memory, one that leads me through the dark in adversities.

It's the sanctuary that harbors my thoughts and emotions, my feelings, the positive and the negative, the getaway that never fails me, the getaway I always find a way to, it's the only thing that makes me know how to articulate what's growing inside of me, happiness, sadness, they're all figurative, till they're brought alive by writing.

It's when you plunge into the sea, it's when you float on it's surface, and feel the salty water gently rinsing your skin, it's when you don't have a single clue how you're still floating, but you are, and you will not drown, the pen and paper, they act as a floater, they're all that's stopping the sea from swallowing you whole, and you close your eyes, and you're back on that beach, feet stuck in the sand, the sun omitting it's rays on your tender skin, changing it's colour, you don't know how you wind up on the beach everytime, but you just do, you lay down on the sand, letting it embrace your body as it is, you've never felt more vulnerable, but you've never felt more mighty.

You close your eyes as the soft waves gingerly hit your toes, they send tingles down your whole body, the sun's light fades as it glimmers on your sunkissed skin, you feel the background fading away.

You open your eyes, the paper and the pen, they're in front of you, that was all a creation of your brain, write it, write it all away.

And most importantly, when I think of you.

Writing's all I turn to.