The phrase is generic and genuine and older than dirt.
I wear my heart on my sleeve.
Shit, it's a mantra for me. You can tell what I'm feeling by looking at my face when I walk into a room.
It's encoded in my DNA. I've never been able to hide it. Be disgusted by it, if you gotta.
I spill my purse like Ally Sheedy in "The Breakfast Club", man. I'm no mystery.
I've heard all the chatter before, and hell, for that matter it's been directed to my face....
"You're needy", "You're whiny", "You're a wet blanket on a kegger fire." I may be all of those to some, and to others I'm none of the above. If anything, I'm emotionally honest. Should I hurt, fuck, you're gonna know it.
Folks have discarded me and given me my walking papers electronically for this, and to them, I apologize for ruining their train of thought. Sadly, they've cast aside someone who will listen to them forever if need be. I work both ways in that department.
I hurt hard, but I love even fucking harder.
So....this is me. At 39. I like to laugh and absolutely love to make others laugh. I've always been that way, and will be forever. But when the need to feel down, or God forbid, even cry comes along, it's gonna show. And for that, I'm giving fair warning.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment