Sneaking into my snippet

 "Whenever i denied writing,  

i was never happier."

Sneaking into my snippet

It is in those long and empty saunter i contemplate the most. Each thing around me collectively embodies into thoughts and i start weaving them into words.  I accept what nature offers me, muttering, then uttering, nodding my head, actions of agreeing and disagreeing.  I imbibe the quietness to pacify my inner tempest.

 Overwhelmed, I often shed tears and smile strangely, grateful for the moment, to whimper under an open sky and not the confined walls, walking alone in hours of dusk and not being seen by anyone. 

 Picturesque fragments now get captured in my mobile phone.  I take a look at the pictures and every little things i did, the flashback, starts flooding my mind. 

 Then begins the sensation of an irresistible urge, an unsettling voice, a compelling force, which tells me incessantly, "Writing is your only therapy".