It’s very hard to maintain a façade of steadiness in this world when there’s a jittery dolt rattling around inside of you.
She pokes out in my sideway glances, fearmongers in my left ear at twilight, plays tiddlywinks in my gut and hiccups whenever I eat red meat.
I’ve gotten used to her over the decades, but the world at-large, I fear, never will.
I should say I don’t care, but I do.
Because it’s sad being ashamed of a part of yourself.
I’d really like that to stop.