She hid,
behind solemn eyes
her weakness 
from those sacred texts
written in prayer.

Such words,
sound naked, choked on tongue
exposed like tangled braids rest
neatly tucked,
one - dangling
over 
the other

But she’s the bait-
Lady Poetry, 
the carrot, the tease
that seeps through cracks
once sealed under skin.
She weaves her flavor
by salt and spicy hand
pen or pencil,
running savagely amongst the chatter,
violently through torrent seas-
She’s the push and pull,
the pain and preservation
but she is free, unrestrained
by the words-

Her voice,
hidden in calm notes
like the fountain or flute steeps in serenity
but the chorus is everywhere, she says!
The Poetry;
seasoned and sprinkled,
her petitions drawn in colors on canvas
or could it be how sight and senses
are stitched and sealed in the soul?

You - conjure the muse
You - call upon the demons
You - rise from inner depths and fight
For the Right to Exist!
You - summon forth yourself!
On paper, in person, in protest!
The creator inside, she just
Pushes -

You -

Out!

Perhaps, that-
is the only reason to escape.

-J. Circosta, Tiny Poet
Escape, ©3.12.18
#SaltandSpice #Unrestraind #HaveaVoice #Poetry #ConjuretheMuse #Escape #TinyPoet