Personal writing, seam rippers, and my new song

In the process of working on my new writing project, part of which involves some writing about painful experiences from my past, I'm realizing something. Writing, at least writing with passion and authenticity, about past challenges and experiences is a bit like taking a seam ripper to old wounds, some of which healed jagged and lumpy in the first place, and trying to open them up again, carefully enough not to rip, but deeply enough to bleed, to hurt, to feel it all again. Only from that place of raw energy can I seem to conjure the genuine emotions of the situation, again to re-enter my life, recreating the feelings of fear, lack of control, and sorrow.

Also, I can't get enough of this song lately.

Haunted by Poe.

Come here
Pretty please
Can you tell me where I am
You, won't you say something
I need to get my bearings
I'm lost
And the shadows keep on changing

And I'm haunted
By the lives that I have loved
And actions I have hated
I'm haunted
By the lives that wove the web
Inside my haunted head

....

Don't cry,
There's always a way
Here in November in this house of leaves
We'll pray
Please, I know it's hard to believe
To see a perfect forest
Through so many splintered trees
You and me
And these shadows keep on changing

And I'm haunted
By the lives that I have loved
And actions I have hated
I'm haunted
By the promises I've made
And others I have broken
I'm haunted
By the lives that wove the web
Inside my haunted head

Always... always

I'll always want you
I'll always need you
I'll always love you

And I will always miss you

....

Come here
No I won't say please
One more look at the ghost
Before I'm gonna make it leave
Come here
I've got the pieces here
Time to gather up the splinters
Build a casket for my tears

I'm haunted
By the lives that I have loved
I'm haunted
By the hallways in this tiny room
The echo there of me and you
The voices that are carrying this tune