I hear you in my head

or is it close nearby

like a voice that is not with me

while closer than my eye.

This thinking

knows me well

will question what I say

whisper like a wind

if I were to speak

what I later wished I might not say.

Then at night it dreams

from which I do recall

sometimes I write them down

once a book did enshew.

So what is this thinking,

it even directs me now

just as I write

am I inside or where I see

I love this friend

who hides.

He is my sanity

in times of despair

my wisdom when I call

my satnav through lifes ups and downs

never gone

always around.