Today, I woke up with a story in my head.
Thought of penning it down,
before it could float away.
The pile of incomplete stories smirked at me.
Trying to mock me with its unanswered questions,
and unquestioned answers.
And just as I had thought, the story was lost
For my subconscious realized I was awake.
It made me wonder,
why I left them incomplete?
Maybe the world of stories scared me.
Maybe I was afraid of losing myself.
You ask why?
It is a wonderful world, indeed.
But if I dive too deep, if I let go,
will I ever be able to come back?