ACCIDENTAL WRITER
I wanted to be everything in my life but not a writer
I wanted to scream shout and fight for everything but my timid self couldn't be a fighter,
And now It feels like writing has become an intricate part of my life
The only thing that's keeping me alive,
I write love, pain, joy, fear,
Anxiety, depression, I write my every tear,
I've came to a point from where there is no going back,
Or maybe it was me who covered all my tracks
I didn't want to go back to normal living,
This is what I want
A tragic yet beautiful feeling,
Craved in my mind soul and heart,
As I weaved the words in my written art,
I write for him I write for her,
I write for every soul screaming with pain none could hear,
I still don't want to be a writer
But I guess it's too late
The childhood me with my dreams buried in her
Looks at me as if telling me it was all written in my fate.
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