Mind, heart, soul

Begins in your mind, and ends in a slight sigh of refreshment. A step into depth of what someone is thinking. The scent of freedom, and a handful of originality. Jam-packed with soul, and brimming with knowledge. Some magical form of composition, releasing a burden off your sore shoulders. When this, this, actions occurs, it’s a song from heaven.
    The melody and rhythm, in unison with my thoughts.  Clickity clacking of each key bouncing off the plastic. And the clenching of my hands, relaxing with every millisecond of this masterpiece. The aura of lavender, with a hint of tears. Bitter tasting words, sprinkled with sugar. Vibrations and movement, sending a jolt of energy soaring through my system. All for my affection and thoughts. A place to go. A hide away.
    Some where I can turn to, when I have no clue what is going on. When my thoughts are a racing faster then I can keep up. I can’t reach what is going on. My safety blanket. My place to go when I can’t run anywhere else. Listening to everything I have to say, and responding with only the sounds of a sketching pencil. Grasping for air, its like my oxygen mask. My plain ticket to wherever I want to go. Answering my questions, that even I don’t know the answers to. This is a gift, a gift I’m not taking for granted.
    A gift. A knowledge. A hobby, and a need. The medication to my neediness of escaping and becoming someone else. Traveling somewhere make believe. And having everything answered. My mind would make me do things, that I don’t understand. My mind would place me somewhere I don’t want to go. My life would be out of reach. Let alone out of sight. I wouldn’t have my own “spunk” nor my own thoughts. People would controlling my life for me. And that’s something I don’t want.
    Little shavings fixing mistakes, and the tap of the arrow erasing something you messed up. Not like life. Much of the reason why I need, I want, and I love this extravagant “thing”. But to be honest, this extraordinary thing, is every ordinary. Its included in everyday ordinary life. And I bet even you have a power, a gift, much like this. But you just have to find it in your self. Yes, come from different cultures, we are different colors, shapes, and so on, but we all have it in us. I promise.

Whats my item? Writing.

P.S. I'm 12. And this is for english. We had to do a writing (exspository) for english. And my item was writing. Everyone else did pools, food, and friends. Let me know what you think.