Lurking --
in the shadows of my soul --
tucked in
opposite conscious awareness,
 The Creative Self
The Artistic Child
 not dead -- frozen against reality
 not frozen -- just awaiting birth.
  Who am I?
  Who should I be?
  Who shall I become?
Will waking the sleeping giant within
 bring chaos
 to my snug, safe, orderly existence --
  open a Pandora's Box
  filled with
   stinging memories and
  inflict
   an aching
   in the atrophied limbs
   of my True Self
   as I struggle through
   therapeutic exercises
    learning
     to crawl again
    before I can walk,
    before I can run,
     before I can dance,
     before I can sing
      and BE -- at last
      as I was meant to be --
made
 in His image:
    The Creator.
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