Scattered, Smothered and Covered

I’m a little scattered, a little sad, and have a wrong mind for doing something silly (not like that)—smart enough to let the dust settle; it will settle—no regretful decisions on the cards. Instead of stirring trouble for myself that’ll make me feel more isolated in this mad little mind, I’ll blog a bit. I can’t figure out if I need distracting or quiet solitude to process. Breakups cause a fracture don’t they, then make one (me) more fragile to other sprinkles of unease around. Little cracks start to lengthen, threatening an earthquake. And, in all honesty, I already was (fragile), perhaps always am. I do not trust easily, I know many folk say that, but it’s true. I try to lead with an open heart but action is always being processed through the undercurrent of an agonisingly observant type. I’ll allow flex even if my gut is whispering…perhaps I’m always hoping to be proven wrong. I’m trying to be more respectful of that voice, the one that always rings true while maintaining an openness to others. I’m reminded how soft lies hit me hard.  And how impactful those born from omission are when they surface. And how that omission plays in my mind when I’m the one being compartmentalised (like a shameful secret—my insecurity whispers). Some current crossovers and past pains are jabbing my heart just now. I always see the ghost of the nail before the hammer is raised; it’s not coming out now—I’m not being left with another fucking hole. A more coherent post will come about again, even if it’s just coherent to me. I’ve had some ideas swimming in mind too. I’ve been scrawling notes to come back to, some of which fall in the creative nonfiction category. There are some stories that may be poems first. I need to channel some things somewhere safe to be exorcised.