dropped.

the words just fell out, dropped from my mouth onto the floor.

the floor.

where they bounced & broke.

where they bounced & broke…and remained.

remained.

until i swooped them up & tried to mend the pieces. and then hide those words, cracked but glued back together in my pocket—as if they’d never come to life.

life.

the one i was living. the ME. right here, right now. the me that sprang those words to life. now plagued with regret.

regret.

of my audacious openness with a stranger. so i hung my shoulders and walked out of the room, embarrased that i’d broken the rules.

the rules.

the ones that tell me i’m not supposed to share. that i’m supposed to listen. that i’m supposed to be transparent & empathetic, but never personal.

personal.

no. this is what it has to be.

be.

i never liked rules anyways.