on the verge.

of something i'm sure. the shallow breathing, the tightening of my heart, the feeling of tears that may or may not come at some time as yet undetermined. fall has always been my favorite season. i think that it's the juxtaposition of brightness with the cool wind and the crumbling leaves. the fluidness of memories that come from smells i notice for brief moments - those same leaves i hated while raking them as those same leaves i've loved when they made me an itchy bed.

i've been reading and re-reading more than usual it seems, although that may or may not be true. what is different is that i have been unable to read anything not written by the lives of my sisters. and everytime, the multiplicity of living the way they do - with hearts first - creates paradoxes i can't seem to get out of.

and i've been trying to avoid it all day - this feeling. this culmination of feelings. trying to ignore how heat has resided in my shoulders, my neck, my head. it occurs to me now that maybe what i'm trying to say is that there is a part of me that's wary of something - i think what i am wary of is an impending implosion. the heat. the tightness. the breaths that are just enough.

the words are all in my head, and just to make sure, i read them again. and i think that in this moment, this dull droning pain, while not getting actually louder, gets perceptively louder because it won't go away. and i think that it is the noise of love i can't contain. i wonder what an implosion of that sort would look like.