Things I don't know how to tell you
(I cried writing this)
I'm a spitfire. I'm rage. I'm mad. I'll tell you to go fuck yourself and that I never gave a damn but we both know I'm lying. It's really special that someone can get so deep under my skin. Please know that I'm fragile. The spitfire in me is so bandaged from getting too close to the flames. I don't wanna burn you. You deserve so much more than for me to bring you down when your name deserves to be in lights. I'm a delicate flower bud. Knotted up so tight until someone comes along and takes the time to water and unravel me. You know what I've been through. I don't wanna be hurt again. I don't wanna hurt you. I want us to bloom together into a field of beautiful flowers that the suns rays shine down upon and people look upon and smile because they're so beautiful. I'm sorry I get things wrong sometimes. I'm sorry I'm delicate. I'm only trying my best. Your smile honestly catches the breath in my throat. Your dumb ass jokes that get on my last nerve but you know I'll always laugh at because I can't help it and I wind up wanting to kiss you. I'm sorry I'm not always the best. I just don't want to have this be another red X and scribble down in a notebook. I want the dumb doodle hearts and flowers drawn in corners. I'm an idiot. I'm sorry.