highly interesting, this notion of emotions as bruised fruit, which still taste nice in light of such bruising. in my own experience it is these bruised fruits which we are tentative to expose to the daylight which hold the most savor and the most meaning, because they are so delicate and so personal that exposing them to the scrutiny of the public would spoil them rather than bruise. and poets can deal with bruised fruits, given such emotions is what makes them vital. it is the bruises we write out. it is the bruises we have taken upon ourselves on this trip called life, which make us interesting and hold therein the most joy.

"and there's a place i like to hide, a doorway that i run through at night..." - another song lyric this made me think of, from "Silent Lucidity" by Queensryche. i love how concisely this poem captures the moment, the feeling of not wanting to feel.