Poetic journal- a camouflage of emotions

Poems are in fact, the camouflage to feelings, where you can hide behind the rhymes and symbols, creating maze of words and entertaining yourself as well as the one who reads in puzzles of wordy illustrations. This is what I usually do, I write and hide behind it. It is more easier to express when it is not obvious, when you do not have to utter exactly the words that you want to communicate and yet you can get the message conveyed. 

But then, they are even symbol of confusion, depicting your nervousness and anxiety, your happiness and when you find it hard to believe it is happening. It is just like invisibility cloak of Harry Potter- smooth, silky and of exclusive quality and so intelligently woven that you can completely hide yourself yet be there. It is, in short, escape route, a vent to your raging emotions- good or bad. 

I have noticed myself, instead of filling pages of diaries that I previously did, I rather opted for rhyming my thought and coordinating my emotions with the words I typed, in short and abstract sentences shapes bluntly filling the lines of this blog. I wrote when I was heart broken or extremely happy, when I dreamed and when I thought I was falling short of one. It was sometimes very dark and blue and sometimes as vibrant and jovial to my readers, but for me it was the colour of shades that I wore in my heart and bore in my mind that very moment. Some poems are infact kiddish, some too abstract but each and every one of them are like daily journals of my life. 

I tried to keep them simple yet I filled them with symbols, you can imagine snowy day but it would be hard to depict the chill running through my thoughts when I scribbled every words. It is not just about me I write, I write about every freaking stupid stuff that moves me, makes me pensive or insure a giggle out of my throat. The words I write are my vision, my emotions are my sight and things I write- the final ones are my painting. I am yet to be Picasso, no I am not even near by him but I never wanted to be him. All I wanted was to share- either by poems or by scribbling of thoughts, writing the dimensions of complexities that I tangle myself with every day and I wish to continue it, forever.