She has words that violently whisper, desperate to get free.
Her mind is a canvas, with every color, yet at the same time she's the only one who can see.
Her body is her oasis, where she can be herself,
With some tools to help.
Her weapon is a pencil.
Her back up is named #2
The small light hitting her eyes,
Is the very reason that I can't deny
That her voice brings shivers to my spine.
That her words keep me spellbounded and on top of ' cloud nine '
With the faintest stroke of her mind
She has me hypnotized.
