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Thursday, December 10, 2015

The Hidden Artist

My words are out of control.
I sow them,
Weave them,
But I have no control over them.
They emerge from within me,
Take me hostage,
Command my hand,
And with purpose write.
The parts are all connected,
But the artist I cannot see with the naked eye.
Who is this that takes command over my body?
Over my speech?
Whomever she is is bound to this body,
And her hidden mystery she desperately wants to unveil.