Self-Inflicted Womb

I can pass it over, step away or set it down...
..."and anytime I please." But what truth do I breath?
How do I prove, and better, to whom...
I am not a prisoner in this self inflicited womb.

What happens to my reserve, my nerve
to kick the devil behind? I can... anytime I please...
...sit face-to face in fear
of what I shall do when he leaves.

My cerebral sidekick, who keeps me whole,
will never call out or reach even one decipal.
Though short and sorry when it comes to brass,
he is as light on the righteuos path.

His kinisthetic brother. Feeds and Devours.
Just as water can save or destroy a flower;
Filling my mind with no charm and less wit.
Only raw sensation, leaving bitter grit.

Into my surreptitious silence they invade.
Was my mind ever mine to be made?
While one fuels the fire, which I use to keep safe,
in confidence the other patiently waits.

Were they always there,
the creators of my Individ-duality?
Or am I the one who gave birth
to this personality?

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