It's like
bubbling
right below the surface.
It's like
the wind howling
through the cracks and the fissures
in the marrow
of my bones.
It's like
brimming
and brimming
and never quite
overflowing.
It's like
a hundred thousand
words
caught in my throat.
It's like
the beating of the bird's heart
against it's ribcage
in it's breast,
as the door to it's cage
unlatches.
I
have
stories
to
write.
I
have
Wisdom
to
share.
I have so much Beauty
pent up
inside me
that
my pen
demands
the page.
And I've decided
Something.
I've decided to get the hell out of my way.
