I feel like a thief sometimes. Not of objects or money, but of expressions-
A kleptomaniac of words.
Words which appeal to me in a certain way, as if are asking me to take them along with me. From a song’s lyrics I was listening last night, to the random banners I read while traveling in a bus; I find them everywhere around me.
I seek them, I meet them, they talk to me and soon we become best friends ready for an unplanned trip.
They tell me their stories and I make new memories with them. I keep them safe, in my heart. I visit them frequently and they rescue me when it’s hard to speak or express myself.
They have faces, they have voices, they speak to me and I absorb them in my skin.
Their pictures are framed on the walls of my memory. They are present in every breath I take and every move I make.
I’ve collected the bits of such words from every walk of life and they respond to me-
Like a parent to a child, guide to a scholar.
A Light to a flower, muse to a lover.