No Limit

Possessed Pages... Sometimes the pen scares me. I go back and read what I wrote, thinking, "It has a mind of its own." Possessed to the point of second guessing. It's me, but was I him? It scares me because I never believe I could ever surpass what I already penned and that in itself pulls on the reins. I play peek-a-boo with self. The kid always suppressing the man. Daring thin ice to give away and douse me with the depth I know is there. The pen makes one aware. It whispers its dares. Touch tip to page and I'll show you the measure of her ways. The way she quivers from your whispers & gives in when you want to take it because everyone wants to be wanted without ever saying it. This is the affirmative no. The head nods no while lips yay. Fighting just enough to feed his need to please. Even now as I write I grow weak from play by play. That is the depth the pen takes always flirting with depth and shallow Starts off so timid then dives to no limit.