Writing Art

The pen

Hits the paper

The story

Writing itself

 

My hand

It feels

Like it’s not even part of me

Like I’m not even controlling it

The story comes out

Whether I like it

Or not

 

The words

Flow

Without speaking

They’re there

On the page

Showing the inner workings

Of my imagination

At work

 

Out in the open

Exposed

There

For everyone to see

To judge

But its part of me

And so

No matter what people say

I won’t stop