• ({ in my head___ *

    ♥♦♣♠

    It spills from my fingers, the dancers
    It pours from my soul, the spinning
    Changing, directing, artfully skilled
    They are creations only my mind
    Is prepared to build.

    Like a boy with four eyes,
    A girl with a tongue as black as coal
    Three men with a taste for blood,
    Their only victim but one woman

    They were, they are, in my head
    For no one must see them, because
    They would have me committed.
    These creatures, these people talk to
    Me. And only me, because that is how
    It was made to be.

    The man and the maid
    The deaf girl, trying to hear her loves’
    Skillful fingers move over his piano
    She cries, she weeps, so her story must be told.
    If I did not tell it, it would be injustice
    To her.
    The cries with no sound,
    The sun with no sight.

    In my head, they live, breathing
    In my ear, casting shadows on my sight,
    Tickling my skin, pinching my tongue.
    They form on paper, through a pen,
    through a pencil, they find their life.
    And they breathe, in my head___