I didn’t want to write,
but the urge kept haunting me
making it unbearable to conceive any other notion than
“pen to paper”.
I didn’t want to send it,
even though the wind fluttered inside my brain
exceeding the excruciating halt
I had planned for it to meet.
I didn’t want to hear your voice
at the other end of the phone line
because the tone pierced my heart
and engaged in a drowning of my being.
I never wanted any of this.
writers have no choice but to answer