A at the Computer

She tries to quiet the voices but she can't. There's too much going on. It's a swirl she can't avoid. She dips her toe in and then takes it out. She tries to resist but she can't. She tries to get back on track. A track she's fallen off for weeks. There's no time like the present. She click click clicks away. She empties the thoughts onto the screen. They trickle out like magic. That sweet, rare liquid she graces the world with from time to time. Why does she keep it all inside? Doesn't she care? Doesn't it matter?