i think because today i admitted to myself that i'm still making mistakes. that i'm hard and uncertain inside, even though i might feel cute and cuddly on the outside. a rolly-poly turned inside out. i curled around my speakers and sang along, "if it weren't for my brain i'd just go over and make friends. too bad about my brain because i'd like to make friends." stop me, won't you, if you've heard this one before.
some people are like haunted houses. boarded up and covered with creepers. don't try to come in. it's our job to scare everyone away. something died here once and the house died with it. ghosts. but there must be a light of some kind.
i'm not depressed. i'm just feeling horribly unattractive. i'm swinging back and forth between bliss and self-abuse. i'm overreacting, even, and i know it. i thought i was beyond this, stronger than this. asking for empathy means trusting means challenging everything that's important to me right now. being vague is easier. being mysterious is more fun. i thought i could be honest without being afraid. i've been intentionally bad at lying.
this is krazy. why am i being so melodramatic?! fuck, i'm twenty-# now. grow up. i am thirty-two flavors and then some.
and maybe it's okay that i'm speechless
cause i picked you out this bouquet.
yep, sure i am speechless
but i picked you out this bouquet.
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