(Nearly)

It arrives in a whisper, a hesistant stray equal parts curious and wary, 
tiptoeing past your doorstep when you're not paying attention but you 
see it in the corner of your eye 
hear it at the edge of your awareness. 

Just the slightest creak on a floorboard: 
a Word.

So when you sit in the silence, 
you find yourself needing to write a sentence, 
tell a story, 
put a thought to paper, you find yourself
itching 
to live in that world of making sense
through ink on paper, 
making real through 
make-believe, you find 
yourself

Yes, that's it, 
isn't it
You find
yourself.