A Voice among many

My voice barely seems my own

Sometimes the words a mystery

Perhaps something speaking through me

They surprise me at times

Write things I would never say out loud

Is the written me the real me?

Will I ever really know?

Am I more open through veiled phrases?

Often moved by pictures

Inspiration needs a source

A voice needs a rhythm

Finds movement among the silence

Perhaps these things matter not

Just fragments stored in webs

Unless they speak to you as well?

What voice do you hear?