Sometimes, I have great difficulty

talking.

We all live inside worlds.

Mine, is an alien planet.

It feels like I’m being invaded, most of the time

by somebody, I don’t know very well.

I try to be friendly

and listen, but then I’m stuck listening

and finally

when they ask if I have anything to say

I struggle to utter five words.

“I…am…writer,” I say.

“What?”

“I write.”

“Are you sure that you’re literate?”

“No.”

I do know one thing though…

my world is the best place to be

it’s home

and heaven

in the making.

We live inside our own

heaven or hell

and we all need to save ourselves.

I know, this is probably a heresy

but it seems true for me

and basically, that’s how I live.