Who am I ~

Push the pen and feel the paper, does it draw your mind to a certain subject or specific rhyme. Sweat drops from my anxiety ridden face like blood from a cut at an unprecedented pace. What will my hands be controlled to write, will you understand, will you believe it tonight. Since inception of filling a blank canvas with graphite and ink, I have learned that my emotions and thoughts have been in sync. I crave to be heard, I crave to allow those who are listening with their eyes, to touch with their minds and follow in my path. Who am I that one cannot be, who am I that one cannot see, who am I to not allow the mind to be set free.