It’s not something that blooms overnight
Or that visits you on your specified intervals;
You breathe it,
Inhaling all that comes your way
And letting out the ones that left an indelible mark.
When you revisit yourself
In the innermost confines of your thoughts
You get back what you lost.
A pen that bleeds with you.
That heals you
And gets you back;
The way to yourself.
The line,” a pen that bleeds with you”, is a kind of poetic apogee in this concise and incisive exposition on the art form itself.
Thank you for your comment sir.