overexposure

i can't stop myself
from saying too much this week -
every twist of a curious knife and
i bleed rich, undesired,
into the exchange.
excessive detail in return 
to benign, simple questions.
break ins, break downs, break ups,
therapy, AA, couples, group.
overturning every 
stone on that asking beach 
to watch the tiny crablike life of 
my over-answer
scramble out between us,
and into the shadows of our 
midday sun silhouettes. 
barely friends, mostly strangers,
whatever happened
to mystery,
to keeping a little something
for myself?
a whole cotton candied story
spun around me
pink flawed sweet
sugary cloud of could be make believe.
remember that party
when that girl did the same thing?
and i was like - oh this is me -
this is annoying.
how quickly did i forget?
image after image in
however many mirrors
lost on its ever reflected subject.