Every time…

Every time I share,

Every time I open my heart about things that matter to me,

Every. Time. I. Feel. Exposed.

Vulnerable…

Known.

Every time is like the first time I opened a vein,

Bled on the page,

Bound and gagged my expectations,

Tried again.

Funny,

The love and the loathing mix,

And the One takes over.

Provides power.

Power pushing me.

Power teaching me,

Power shaping me.

I’m a captive at the keyboard,

Compelled by it’s allure,

Restless,

Wanting,

Anxious, both to give and to withhold.

Medicine for my soul.

Mixture of sensations…

Mesmerizing mystery.

The act.

Too much, and not enough,

I leave it, torn.

To speak and be found out,

or to remain silent and bleed within?

Writing!

My blessing and my bane.

 

 

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