unfiltered

my soul comes

without warning

inserting itself

into the most

innocuous of

conversations,

whether whispered

or screamed,

it shows proudly,

unaware of its

consequences

(the shame

comes later).

my soul comes

with jokes

made when

cornered:

like an animal

in a cage

i show my teeth

when i laugh

at my own expense.

my soul comes

with complications,

imperfections,

like boils from an

unknown illness

that continue to erupt

into emotions

that i cannot name

or comprehend.

my soul comes

with questions

that have no answers,

messages

that have no receiver

thoughts

that vanish

before they can be

spoken aloud.

so i speak them,

maybe more

than i should,

because i am not real

unless you hear me

even the parts

that deserve to be buried.

my soul comes

like a house

built

where a crime scene

used to be:

the horror

is still there,

but there’s no tape

to tell you when

to stop walking

inward.

my soul comes

without a warning,

an assault on the senses,

and even if i don’t intend

to cause panic,

i might.

after all,

i scare myself

night after night.

because i can’t

warn myself

away from my soul:

it follows me,

even as i grow.