How do I explain the very release

An action gushing out of one's control

Where the pain you feel is the missing piece 

 

Words are written 

The known is read

My soul once bitten

Is sewn from thread

 

The words are clockwork

Spinnning in mesh

It pulses uncertainly

It's made out of flesh

 

The words tremble

In their place

Not knowing what will resemble

Nor the reaction of your face

 

My body has been flipped

From the inside out

What I once hid has slipped

Into something unknown

 

What you are after is nothing to miss

After this process sheads truth to the dark

The release felt is incandescent bliss 

 

The purpose is simple

Uncanningly clear

The basic principle

Is nothing to fear

 

The words find me

I write them down

The image I see

What will become

 

It finds me when I'm feeling alone

It shakes me awake in the night

It calls out to me to be known

From this there is no flight

 

Fascinated I was very young

The mystery of such words

The eerie spirit that with them is hung

By what is unspoken in each verse

 

Poetry finds me when needed the most

It writes itself from everything I share

It becomes my life, my very own ghost