She was completely whole and yet never fully complete.
It’s not like that I do not want to talk to you, it’s just a scarcity. I have run into shortage of words. “Thunderstruck”, head in the clouds, ideas spark like a lightening. A hailstorm inside my mind, but there is a pinch of shine, like a ray of hope in disguise. When phone rings now, there’s a warbling voice inside my head, nudging my brain to speak out, but scarcity locks my mouth. In a den of dawn, I am like a flower blossoming on the surface, nourished by the sun, but in reality I am rooted up in silence. I isolated my own blossoming down to the earth, and now most of me am rooted up in silence away from the sun and the horizon. Finding my true self, nurturing my body, this lockdown blessed me in disguise.
It’s not that I do not want to talk to you it’s just I cannot right now. It’s not because I do not want to talk, it’s because I am left with no words but a mind full of thoughts that are meant to be for my mind only. Holding the thoughts to utter a word is as difficult as holding a handful of sand.
Everyone told me, to live my life in such a way that I will be remembered for my kindness, compassion, fairness, character, benevolence and a force for good that had much respect for life. But I am a night watchman to my own voice now, deep down nourishing it for the good. A root can be as much like a fierce erupting volcano as a flower looks like having a sufficient amount of nectar to suffice the thirst of a bee. Everyone desires themselves as heroes in their version of the story. Everyone wants to slay and control, but silence is thing which can turn into a beast, if you are already on a hunt for its beauty. Everyone is on a hunt but the truth is nothing is enough for us. You just need to feel beautiful without anyone needing to tell you.
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