curious

you tell me that there are things I wouldn’t want to know
impossibly dark things
I breathe to take it all in
trying to
because maybe even this vague admission is the best you can give
why even understand
what you’re
telling in hesitation?
trying me
testing my curiosity
no, maybe my limits
of acceptance, of love
I find myself asking, “what, then, is the worst thing you’ve done?”
"I don’t mean to pry,"
I falter,
"but
something in you
wants
to be free."

Vulnerable

I have this unruly desire to purge all these secrets
and be free, finally

But fear rises
and grabs that nonsense and shoves it right back
and I’m numb again

I’m on the edge:

Looking down I realize I’d fall
I’d surely be a mess
splattered out there for the world to see
Looking up I realize I could be flying
light, floating

Common sense tells me that flying will result in falling
But doing nothing
Staying in control
Not feeling
Maybe hasn’t been a fall
It hasn't hurt, true

But self-protection is losing its reason
There's that slight possibility
That I can trust you and let go



So I leap and tell you
Everything

Puzzles Always Go Faster Together

You’re puzzling
How do you expect me to understand when you hide the pieces?
Whatever
That’s your decision

But here’s the secret:
I love you even with those ugly parts