Sometimes there's so much to say, the words get trapped in the labyrinth that's inside you. All tangled up, lost and disoriented. And sometimes there's so much to say with such clarity as cool water that will undoubtedly quench one's thirst, but no one there to listen, no one to share in this flowing gift. But then..is it a gift, or a curse? Do you really desire another soul to hear you, hear as you pull out those lost words from within, hear you agonize as you bleed them out? And can you stop the bleeding once it starts? Will your lost words, now found, find gentle cradling in another's hands, or will they be rejected like poison? Is it really something you'd like to reveal or is it better off hidden, obscured, like an unassuming weed in the forest where no one would dare venture into?
My thoughts are thoughts, and words are words. Whether they remain in the dark forest, contained in a labyrinth, or seen, heard, received by another, they are words. I have thought them and they've taken their breaths. They will continue to thrive within me and consume me. And as the Phoenix yearns to be consumed to rise and live again, so shall I gather my words like twigs to burn me and breathe life into me simultaneously. Words and Self coalesced, each defining the other, living, yearning for eternity.