Felt tip feelings.

                                                  I like leafless trees.I know they look very bare and all that,but I think that's exactly why I like them-they are not afraid of being vulnerable.It could be argued that they don't have an option,but nonethelss,it builds character and the kind of sublime beauty all the hiding behind leaves and shade,playing it safe,never letting the soul even peep can never conquer.

                                                I also felt this  certain feeling while looking at one,latticed above me in a criss-cross dream,as I pretended to count all the dragonflies flying low,indicator of rain,they say.

I felt this great burden lift off of my chest,set me free from this imaginary pinion I myself had created,

There were pink flowers like inverted tutus,that day-the edge of spring,the beginning of summer,deceptive petrichor-one could barely tell anything apart.

I felt whole and free and full.Like after satiating a food craving.And at the same  time,light as a cool breeze,the air curtain breeze lifting an instant of a blizzard through your hair.

A niche I had carved so within the depths of mellow denial,I  did not realise endings could feel like drizzle on your face,when you're longing for the rain.

Pretty pictures are not pretty just because you make them out to be,it's because you look at them as nothing separate from a part of who you are-

And that's when I learned that fatigue could feel good,in dark bags below my eyes and tired fingers bleeding with ink.
And sometimes the more I think,the less I feel,secured tight into suffocating knots like a fishtail braid,but what overpowers is-

                                Love embraces you much before you make note of it.