I wonder if it’s my “morals”, my long-standing beliefs getting in the way, the ones we don’t see eye-to-eye on.
The ones that are the only ones we severely disagree on.
Except maybe God, but that's best saved for another day.
I wonder if it's discomfort whenever I talk of Mai or Heather, and how I crave the bitter tastes they've each given me.
The same tastes I ache for when I'm alone in the dead of the night without any sort of repose.
I wonder if it's the far-off look in my eyes when my mind wanders off, bleeding internally at the thoughts that poke holes in my steel protections.
The memories that shake me right down to my glacial core.
I wonder if it's my smile when I actually mean the glimmer that reaches the corners of my eyes.
The twinkle that is caused by Heather's similar grin or Maisie's heart-wrenching touch.
And I wonder if it's just me, and all my broken bits and pieces, that lead you to make dire decisions and drive you to make vapid actions.