the words are fueled by anger, hot and fiery anger. they just flow and flow and rage out of control. the confusion and misunderstanding blinds everything with a smokey haze, choking out everyones lungs and allowing no breath to be taken. fire can be cleansing sometimes; allowing for all the dead and old parts to be removed, for new growth to have room to flourish, a burden lifted. but that's when the fire is in control, and over. out of control; burning everything in it's path, relentless. leaving behind nothing but remnants of what used to stand, of what used to be, so dismembered and charred they're unrecognizable. these crucial moments afterward determine the path.
what if the wrong path is taken, can the steps be retraced in order to ensure the right? to ensure that this precious newness is preserved and allowed to develop?
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