Stagnant

It's burning inside

 like it does

 sometimes.  

An intense desire

 to write.  

Like there's something in there

 begging

 to be released,

 just waiting

 for my permission.  

I think I'd like to now.  

Release it.  

It seems

 painful

 to both me

 and to it

 to keep it

 stifled.  

Unfortunately,

 today,

 I'm not sure

 what it is.  

It

 doesn't want

 to write itself today;

 it's determined

 to make me

 do the tough

 work

 of pulling

 it forth

 on

 my

 own.