my box reads "this end up."
I love too much, and I (almost) give myself away too easily. I catch myself before I make the millionth careless ("stupid!") mistake of my played-out, sterotypical teenage life. I'm bitter, I'm harsh, I'm spiteful. Keep away or you'll catch my disease. You'll become like me. I care too deeply, too fast, and it scares me. I'll lose myself in you. I'll push you away, only because these arms are trembling too hard to pull you in close. Believe me when I say I want to, but I wasn't raised that way. I wasn't taught to love. Can you teach me? Angry, frustrated tears fall from my tired, despairing eyes, and you want to know if everything's alright. When has anything ever been alright?
i don't want to hurt you. i'm fragile but i carve my wounds deep. i don't want to hurt you, but it's too easy. (i'm fragile) handle me carefully. i don't want to hurt you, but it's so tempting. (i'm fragile) delicate, easily broken. i don't want to hurt you, but i will. (i'm fragile) curl your fist in tight and i'm gone.
Forgive me for treating you the way I don't want to be treated. I don't know how to love; I wasn't raised that way.