Do you sometimes feel that you need to get it all out but words evade you?

That it's not the lack of feeling but the overwhelming amount of it that chokes you, suffocates you, clouds the mind - leaving you incapacitated to form any sense of coherent thought.

That if you could just get it all out like you wanted to, you would not only feel better but you would love it.
Love your words, your thoughts, yourself.

Even if what you write is not beautiful but ugly.
Tarnished by age, jaded by thought, but more you then you itself.

If you could let the vessel overflow, unhindered. Let the dam finally burst so that you are left with a void, an emptiness you can fill again?

If only for a day, I long for that new beginning.