A Proper Order to Things

I started taking some words and moving them around in my head, and found something I wanted to say.
The silence has been echoing loudly for awhile now and the noise was such a welcome balm to this chaotic mind.
I trusted all those words to a page, spinning it out as I rode the wave of purpose, taking the words out of my head as quickly as they formed into thoughts, shouting to the world outside myself that somewhere, I still exist.
I was in the middle of this experience when the page caught fire and burned away to ash faster than I could comprehend, fast enough to burn my fingers and scorch my heart.
I had forgotten, again, what a relief it is to let go of all those words,
How soothing it is to say a momentary goodbye to the clutter caught up inside.
But then it was gone forever and I've lost a piece of myself.
I've scattered bits all over my time, pages covered in strings of thoughts hidden in books, the bottom of drawers, behind important things.
To gather them up would be an insurmountable task - once I've put them down they are no longer mine.
When things go as planned, and the words are finished, and the papers are lovingly set aside and all those pieces become an echo of a moment in my time.
But then it was gone forever and I'm overwhelmed by the loss.