run around, get dirty. make some bad decisions.

"in the end," i told him, while stuffing my face with a bit more food, "i'm all talk. i mean, i'm just being honest."
he shook his head and looked away.
i can't help it. i've got a skip in my step from thinking that the inch i was talking about, really happened over night. but in the end i am still where i was a week ago.
"you'll look around and get it." i can't believe him when he says it. every time he sees me he questions my everything. the why's and what if's are daunting. you could try to hold my head up, but my worry is too heavy. my heart sealed over with scar tissue. like a burn victim. its not what it used to be. the look is all different. and it feels less wholesome.

everyone tries to tell me. i just "i know" and keeping on going. in end it's me i have to live with. and in the end it's the thought of us that keeps me from getting over it.

"you're so lovable. you deserve it."
but i don't want it. not now. not from you. not with the look on your face that i can't match up with. this is another case of "i can't say i didn't warn you." except i'm on the bad side of it. i'm the fair warning. i'm the one you should be reconsidering. so sick of being told to just go with it.


this is me at my best. with the worst intentions. my heart on my sleeve with no one questioning any of it.
this is why i am always on the verge of trouble.


worry, worry. you put my head in such a flurry, flurry.
oh freckle freckle.
what makes you so special?


-xo