Spilling…Breaking…

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

It’s vast.

Wide

Tall

Deep…

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

With gold

Kintsugi.