I can tell you what lurks in the dark and dank places near the bottom of the heart, those things locked away, the narrow heavy door barricaded. I can tell you because I put some of those things there in my own heart many years ago, thinking I could think to forget, discarded memories dumped into the well.

In delving take care, take light, take a rope and a pick. It is deep, and it goes deeper, and may even have the cold faint echoes of water dripping into a vast underground pool. But sometimes, weather and mind permitting, it is safe to go spelunking, if only just to see.

Under weight, given time, coal turns to diamonds; and we are carbon, too. It is impossible to say what long-forgotten regret has morphed into corundum.