I think I’ve finally hit my breaking point. I think I’ve finally found a moment where I’m more tired of the energy it takes to hold everything in than what it requires to dig the words out of the depths of my soul to put them in front of someone. I’ve been waiting a long time to smash this one to pieces but it’s funny the way relief still sometimes comes with a sense of dread.
Speak
I’m usually scared that I’ve said too much
If you tell that statement to anyone that spends much time around me
they’ll probably laugh
I’m quiet a lot of the time, observing
I think, too much is more qualitative than quantitative
yet on the days I talk, it doesn’t stop
I’m sure each word is the one that pushes over the edge
My speech slows, place the words more carefully, buy myself some time
I’m bracing over and over and over for an explosion that doesn’t come
I’ve never been one for small talk so it’s all too much for the wrong audience
I’ve called the wrong audience right before, my trust in self-judgment wavers
I steady myself and lean in, word by word until I vomit
Story direction changes faster than I can keep track of
trying to explain as fast as it comes to mind, before I overthink, tossed aside
When silence creeps in, people bite their tongue
I’m sure I’ve done it
Sure I’ve said too much
Much love, until next time.
Madeline May I... 