Why am I doing this?
What am I trying to control OF myself?
Oh this crisp shell;
No, it has only been served as…
What has it that not a sound be heard through these mutable walls?
…but yet the sound, at the same time, which disintegrates this field?
Oh, don’t Shame the raw cries of your beautiful being..
(your attractive vulnerability..)
Longing to be heard by the darkness that surrounds thee…
(…surrounds thy false light..)
You cannot be a flame with a white container of conditioned light…
(your crisp white shell…)
Darkness longs for thee.
(c) Jennifer Lee, The Voice Of The Wounded Soul
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