Pen-Dependent - a Poem

As I put the pen back to paper,

it sucked in all that's written,

in an angry, reproachful inhalation,

and twiddled between my fingers,

demanding manumission.

Run me along, it tells me, or leave me alone.

When you blink and stumble, you leave me high and dry.

If you know the way, take me along,

without pause and halt.

Exhaust me, for my depletion and rebirth.