SCRIBBLES OUT OF BLUE

Revelation

Some people feel like warm hugs. As if their embrace seals us from the world that has wounded us. As if their hands stroking the hair softly is a lullaby. Their shoulder pacifies the loud cry we've been holding in for so long. Their breath on the neck makes us feel alive. You seep deeper into their chest and you become one. As if you are a part of them, you are not your responsibility, you have done enough for the day. That's how a warm hug feels maybe.

What if I am a warm hug to myself? On the days when there was no one to come back to, I was there. I was there reassuring myself every single time that its gonna be okay. That I was doing the best I can. Fighting the unfair world was one thing and fighting with my thoughts is another. The battles that I never spoke of, that no one even has an idea. The battles I fight with myself every single time feel as if they are never ending. On such days I sit in the corner of my room, with my journal and my pen. The scribbles never stop. As if it was blood flowing through my pen point instead of the green vein on my wrist refusing to stop even for a second. With the damp street light shining through my window and a damp paper in the neat journal there I was, there I am writing my pain away. 

Probably the cuts never heal but they are a part of me now. Would I ever be the person I am right now otherwise? Maybe not says the optimist in me but somewhere in my mind I know the pain so vividly, the scars it has left. But I am proud. I am proud of what I have become. From seeking validation from the world to creating a whole new world within me and without. Maybe on such days we must take a deep breath and feel the person we are. Be happy over it and then find the courage to overcome that fear. That negative thought our brain keeps thinking of. Its only in our hands.

Until next time!

Elysian 🦋