A dire need a desperate fix,
for the aching in my chest.
Fingers crack and tap away the urges,
that will never rest.
White crisp waves inside me settle to calm waters
when I write
what I cannot articulate
in direct language.
A picture I see, one that I can paint with words
letting you into my soul.
Keys and pens
screens and paper
are my weapons
against the killer
called the norm.