The speaker feels stuck, held back by something that should open but won't. The title, "Inhibited," suggests a blockage inside the self: a lock that torments, yet offers nothing when it finally gives. Whatever comes out is only ash, the leftover of something burned. So the speaker is not just unable to express themselves; even the little they can release feels dead and spent.
The second stanza widens the picture. Ash is called "ordinary as water" and "infinite as hope," which sets everyday things beside something huge and uncertain. Then comes the odd closing phrase, "this lying sea." A sea can seem endless and promising, but here it deceives, much as hope can. The mood is bleak and restless, with a tired, bitter edge. The poem seems to say that longing never runs out, but it also never quite delivers. The short, spare lines make the frustration feel tight and held in.