Writing.

Its the only time when my mind 

is anchored on the floor. 

And stops writhing, pouring out thoughts

Fighting against clear spaces or voids of faceless walls. 

Writing is but a way to keep the mind from collapsing under rushing

buses of thought and stress from hustling, bustling streets of mindful crap.

Writing is a way to forge a line from the crown down the spine to the feet then to the ground, finding connection and some solid thing to work on, and focus upon.

Writing is at the same time used as a chain saw, breaking chains through rhyme 

And carving chucks of heavy oak of off the brain so it can stop choking. 

And writing to some people is like breathing the air in and out around us 

And writing to other people is like walking on water that surrounds us on this desert island. 

And to me its something special 

And to some it may not be an exponential expression of the heart when explored further but writing is writing and thats it.

Its just words, and dots, formed in sentences and never stops, but keeps going.

Because even when our hands are still, our body numb, the mind is writing still.

Still forming imagery through words, and filing itself, and sorting out itself in every way. 

Writing is the only time when my mind is anchored to the floor 

So can thank god for words 

or my mind would be a mess 

and probably would have imploded long before due to stress of the world around me.