I've taken time to breathe--
stilled my tapping fingers,
capped my quill's inkwell--
only to find myself suffocating.
Once spilled words finding an outlet
throughout my bloodstream
swimming against the current;
along my nerves
surfing the tsunami's swell;
within my lungs
filling the empty caverns,
squeezing every ounce of air out.
With each stunted breath,
my fingers itch to dispel this poison
my inkwell longs to unleash its fury
allowing the words to pour from me
before I drown.