I overshare.
It’s what happens when you’ve been lonely for too long,
And unheard even longer.
Nights are heavy and silent.
I carry my own stories to bed.
The weight piles up in my chest,
Pressure building,
Waiting for the smallest crack to escape.
Then with friends, in lighter air,
The dam gives way.
Everything comes rushing out:
Stories, fears,
half-finished hopes and dreams.
I explain myself,
Desperately, painfully.
I try to rationalize my thoughts,
Validate my feelings out loud,
Trying to see if any of it makes sense
To someone else.
I know I overshare.
I see it in their eyes.
I don’t mean to spill so much,
But for me,
It’s either overflow,
Or drown.
My Broken Infinity
