The Pen That Writes Itself by Automatic Writing
Messages from beyond
The Pen That Writes Itself by Automatic Writing
The candle burns low, my hands are still,
The room is quiet, the clock unmoved,
The page before me white and wide,
As if it waits for something more.
A shiver runs across my skin,
The pen begins to hum with thought,
It moves without my bidding hand,
As though another mind now speaks.
The words emerge, unsure, alive,
Each one a breath I did not take,
Each line a whisper not my own,
Yet somehow part of who I am.
They write of places I have not seen,
Of hearts I’ve never met or known,
They speak of loss, of joy, of time,
Of love that never fades away.
When I stop, the pen grows cold,
And silence folds around the page,
The ink still wet, the air still charged,
The presence fades but leaves its mark.
I read the lines and see myself,
Not fully me, yet somehow close,
The voice that spoke through hand and word,
Still lingers softly in my mind.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (3)
Beautiful…writing can feel like an out-of-body experience sometimes. Love your poem.
Love your poem, but always find things like this a bit creepy
Beautiful xx Thankyou for sharing xx