Untangled Kevlar

Time and time again we sit with feelings pressed into our chests. Woven traumas strung together like Kevlar threads. Knit armor with spools and spools of lies like "I'm great"

"I'm okay"

Or "I'm doing fine"

Could you imagine saying truthfully

"No, I'm not fine. I've been bedridden during the day, and I'm up all night reciting the lines of poems written by other romantic and overthinking the semantics in the notes you once wrote me and all the things the world has taught me. "

Can we untangle our insecurities so we can wrangle the things we the things we really need? Get a good hold on love and let it be? Imagine waking up today to say

"No, I'm not great. The sun is too bright, the shadows too cold. I've lost my courage. I don't feel bold. I know I'm running away when it's your hand I want to hold but the weight is sucking me under, the Kevlar and the feelings."

Imagine honestly telling your loved ones that you're reeling, and countlessly recounting these unsettling moments where you want to take emotion by the hands and just choke it - snuff it out like nothing happened. Imagine how weightless that'd feel?

But non of that is real and that's the whole ordeal.

I can't justify my desire to not always want to heal...sometimes I just want to be made of steel.