Let Me Find My Own Way Home

I am in control of what I feel,
The majority at least.
I have this fear that,
Without explanation,
Seems irrational to many.

But I know one of these days
I'll open my mouth
And let the words spill out
And I won't be able to stop.

Not as I know the answer that
I will inevitably receive.

Not as I feel the horror of what
I am finally doing.
Not as I tell the whole truth.

I will still walk away from it able to
Pick up the pieces like I'm supposed to.

The situation is what I make it.
I will feel as I am born to do,
And then feel as I need to do.

The day will be one that I will never forget,
Much like the one that started it.

Reviews

[Jessica]

What day are you speaking of?

[t.m.]

What do you mean?

[Jessica]

The last two lines of the poem. Please explain them

[t.m.]

The day that I give away all of my secrets to the people that they belong to will be one I won't forget, nor can I forget the day(s) that the secrets came to be in my possession.

[Jessica]

Who will you share them with

[t.m.]

With the people to whom they truly belong

[Jessica]

How do you know they belong to them

[t.m.]

Why wouldn't they

[Jessica]

No, how do you know which secrets belong to which people

[t.m.]

Based on content

[Jessica]

Sorry I disappeared, work got busy

[t.m.]

I've adapted to you disappearing. Is everything okay, though? (Also, I'm sending you a fun fact)

[t.m.]

((at some point))

[Jessica]

Ouch that kinda hurt

[t.m.]

What did? Nothing was intended to do so.