By Robert C Price

Last night the people

Who dwell in my head

Insisted on appearing

I fought them back

As much as I could

But they stole my secrets

And threatened to release

What I could not

So they grabbed my hand

Sat me down

Opened my notebook

And forced me to tell

Their stories

Their intimate thoughts

Their dreams

Their happiness

Their sadness

Their regrets

I wrote until they grew

Satisfied with the results

I sat wearily at the table

Hands ached from the

Constant pressure

But ecstatic from the freedom

The voices will no longer

Plague my mind

Until the next time