the same old thoughts in the same old words.

These are my aberrant cryptic thoughts, slathered in pure ambiguity so as not to lie here naked, exposed in this desolate place. The raiment keeps me so warm and safe. This manner of expression that seems to equivocate thoughts is a way for me to convey the deepest most intricate parts of my soul that will never be spoken aloud. My speaking is shallow and to the point, lacking any depth as I impose these cruel restrictions on my mouth, continually gagging on the rusty old chain in my throat. I would like nothing more than for there to be perspicacity existing in all its forms, that exquisite clarity in my speech. I am forever searching for that singular word that will nail down these arcane thoughts, ideas and desires. Searching, but turning up with no such word. The chain declares that it has captivity over my mouth. Herein lies my lifelong struggle, this ineluctable truth, the desire to be known and yet wanting to bask in the "security" of being unknown. So I cry out to my Bridegroom, pleading for him to break these chains, to mollify my seeming relentless fears….. Lord, take these inclinations to be reticent away! Let not my speech be restrained! It is still.
And quiet in this place.
I am capable of lucidity.
Only through you Abba.