He who writes very loudly, as busy and can not stop talking, is not really very quiet indeed.
He was not looking at it long and deep.
Many want to be spoken, but too much of a concern, until one is able to get out again is writing.
Burden and all that incriminate him, no one knows exactly, unless you read what he wrote.
The words he was supposed to say, were chosen for swallowing. However, his fingers again gave birth to gratitude, love, pleasure and all forms of anxiety.
He would be glad to be heard, but he would feel more alive if he could be read carefully, understood per word.