- whimsy: storyteller -

a whisper ~

it wasn’t snowing, no. it wasn’t raining either. or the sky wasn’t blue, the night wasn’t black, and it was not quite. pink sky blotted with fluffs of white hiding golden rays, chilly hands stuffed under blankets, soft cotton covering my feet, and radio noises blaring all through the neighborhood. it was 4 a.m. but the world around me was wide awake. festivities were around the corner, and everyone was busy cooking special dishes and that’s when i heard three alarm clocks go off at once. none of them were from my home, no. none of the people screaming were mine, no. but that day was mine for it was the day of many firsts.

it was the day i realized that i could write. i could put pen to paper and pour it all out and i need not suffocate. i wanted to scream to the whole world – i can write. I CAN WRITE do you hear me?

the stark splotch of dark against parchment, drip drip drip time, and ink flows.

it’s lonely out here. i whispered to the noisy world.

the ink a mocking glare at my words and so i said it louder. it’s lonely out here.

but nothing changed. i can write, i can cry, i can hope, true. but nothing ever changes.

~ ashmita

16 thoughts on “a whisper ~

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