People think I talk too much…
And by people I mean me too.
They think I share too much.
Sometimes I share to get some out
Some of me
That’s spilling over the edges of my mind
You’d think it couldn’t fill up
How does it well up?
I may never know.
But when I put pen to paper
It soothes my aching soul
And it opens up a little window
To let some light in.
Cohen said it in Hallelujah
It’s through the cracks that the light comes in
Every now and then I’m shattered
But I have become a potter
I examine my brokenness under my mind’s microscope
I lay them my pieces out decadently
Gentle stroking my ego
I put me back together