Sipping on a cup of hot milk tea.
Rain creating its very own sea
right outside of my front door
I snuggle warm, grabbing my notebook from the floor.
Pencil in hand, I began to write
of a wondrous, dark, stormy night.
Nothing could ever come close to a feeling like this.
Not even one's own first kiss.
To write a story in a riddled tone.
To get out emotion when you're feeling alone.
Imagination flowing with no boundary.
A wonderful world, in which I know I'm free.
Hot mug against my pale lips,
the breeze outside, I imagine it nips.
Safe inside as another masterpiece is being created.
For an inspirational storm I have waited.
