Here I am, ready to throw myself into the flames again. I stand before the furnace,
The heat is so powerful that I feel beads of sweat forming on my upper lip I’ve been here before. It hurts, I know the fire.
To step inside that den of flames is to know pain. To feel every edge sharpened
To feel every desire, heightened
Each impurity, being charred to ash, a distant memory.
To feel yourself, inescapably alive, writhing in your own consciousness.