It’s hammering against my ribs again.
I take a deep, slow breath —
an attempt to put it to sleep —
but it won’t lie down.
Pacing now it wears a path between my ears.
“I don’t have time!” I shout.
It sings louder, drowning me out.
With resignation I open my journal,
sharpen a pencil
and sit.
Suddenly the storm is still.
I wait.