Words in me have sprouted themselves. They are like cells in my body, each reciting their strange stories to strangers.
They are expanding themselves as though if they have fear of extinction.
They are living in me like parasites. Dependent on my thoughts and believes. With forever hinge in my heart.
They respire in my spirit and feed themselves with my zeal and agony.
They take birth in between my sleep and dream.
They laugh in the moment of little ecstacy of the day.
They cry when they are injured in heart.
They sympathized me in the darkness of the darkest nights.
They leave me by oozing out through pens to live in diaries and notebooks.
But they leave a permanent mark on my spirit, a permanent foot print. Like if they have legacy of my soul.
More than a parasitic relationship we shared a symbiotic relation….