Somewhere,
In the root of the stomach,
It is born.
In the gut,
It unfolds.
You walk.
It spins around your neck,
It swims from head to toe,
And you swoon.
You talk.
It knocks you back and forth.
It’s your mouth that moves,
Another voice
That’s coming through.
And you stumble,
You stumble,
You stumble.
It’s a force
That knows best.
You fight with no rest.
But it knows,
Oh it knows,
It knows best.
Question ?
Succumb.
Question ?
Succumb.
Question.
Question.
It’s a form of doubt.