The Tongue

My world went awry for a while,

When I realised what I had just done,

or rather,

what 'it' had just done.

My mind blacked out for those few crucial moments,

When 'it' had all the control,

and I was left dangling like a puppet.

It went meandering out of the cave,

to establish a world of contradiction,

then ,stepping aside,

rather than defending me against the repercussions.

I caught the drift of my folly,

when I knew that it did not have a mind of its own,

but was a part of me,

a deep,involuntary aspect,

like an alter ego perhaps,

which resurfaced time and again,

to spice things up,

to see the look on my face,

in a grave crisis,

a crisis of the mind,body and soul.

A crisis of the being.

The crisis of being weak.

The realization that I was helpless,

and pitted against the world because of 'it'.