alone & quiet martlet

And so she stood, releasing glimpses of her innermost parts to strangers.
Acts of openness always catch me off guard: I am touched by how trusting someone can be, how easily she passes around pieces of her emotions and her past; or maybe I am stunned by how someone seems to insist that everyone holds her secrets.
But my problem is that I am never quite sure if the situation calls for my own openness. Because I unwrap parts of myself too, sometimes too easily and sometimes too much. And some of these are parts I don’t know what to do with. Hiding them seems futile, for my mind can’t hold much. But I don’t think I’d want to hold everything in, even if I could—for these are the parts of me I am learning to be honest about. These are the parts of who I have been and who I am; in some way or another, they will always be a part of me.
So forgive me for not holding out handfuls of my insides. But know that if you see them, it’s because I’m trying to move forward even under the weight. I’m trying to live.