Words caught in my throat like glass
I want to tell you all about me
I want to explode with my story
Dance on the words that glow
Coax the sentences that hurt slow but with chin raised high
I want to breathe past the fiber glass worry in my chest

What do you read in my eyes when I’m positively bursting to speak but mute with the honey stuck worry that you’ll take one real look and run away

My palms are open
A map
Pale and lined and filled with my stories
If you could see my world on them like I do I think you would find it beautiful and sparkling and terrifying and dark

I’ve lived a lot
And not in so many years
I like to pretend that the scars I’ve gotten from the wrong people are gone
But this scraping on my nerves when I try and let you in speaks to the lie of that

It scares me to want something
-someone-
I think I need to open my palms and show you the path through it

Try and believe that you won’t close them tight,
place them back in my lap,
far away from you,
and tell me you never wanted to see how to get through to me in the first place