There is someone that lives
deep within my skin.
Piercing through when I'm subdued,
they let rivers of words flow in.
It's unreal sometimes,
the way they produce
worlds I can't imagine,
places I can barely fathom.
They make words sing,
when I struggle to even get
a sentence to begin.
They come when I'm drained.
When my energy has left,
rearranging my thinking.
when my eyes start to droop,
And my will is sinking.
It's like a bird swoops down,
filling the air with tuneful words.
I know not where they come from
nor whether they will suddenly end,
but reality has started to blend
or maybe I'm morphing into him.
The words have started to come
from somewhere else within.
There is someone
that sits in my seat
when I'm asleep,
like a ghost
or phantom
that walks
the night-time beat.
They take unfulfilled thoughts
and contort them, until the unformed
symbols mean something more uniform.
Have I been possessed?
Do I need an exorcist?
Or do I just accept this being
that takes over when I'm feeling
I'm no use. It seems to be trying
to show me the right path.
Maybe best to let it be.
As I become him, he becomes me,
we become one, a being of unity.
So, I let it keep wearing me.
and see where the words will lead.
Thanks for reading
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