As I closed my notebook, as an invisible weight lifted off my chest, a voice inside of me asked,
“Why did you write, again?”
To which, I couldn’t find an apt answer.
All I know is that there were thoughts; chaotic, messed up, sad, happy thoughts- they screamed into my ears.
They were trying to reach out;
To whom, I will never know.
There was an uneasiness that had made its residence inside my heart, turning it into stone cold in the process.
There were things I couldn’t speak of,
And there was no one to listen.
The wind blew open my notebook, my pen lying in wait next to it.
In that moment, I knew what I had to do.