Sometimes
The words pour out
A beautiful symphony
Letters entwine my skull
Choke me with their simple
Elegance
Some see it as writing
I see it as
A beautiful death
A necessary one.

But other times
The emptiness is what
Overwhelms me
The profound absence
Of ink on paper
The maddening sensation
Of paralysis
Grips me
As my gentle fingers
Shake
Helpless and
Longing.