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.