DOES KNOWING ME MORE MEAN LOVE ME LESS?
I shelter myself so fiercely.
I am an ongoing discussion;
my life isn't perceived the same.
Do you know I love talking about the most unusual things?
Do you know I can't go a day without my mother's voice?
I wake to a new perception of myself,
one I've made for someone new.
The idea of knowing Diane,
the idea of me being open.
You'll grow tired, I can tell;
I always could.
I'm a girl who is scared:
scared of what the real me reveals,
scared of hurting myself,
scared of how you'll see me.
You can't know how obsessed I become,
you can't know how much power and wealth i crave,
you can't know how much love I hold to give.
I am dull,
I am unfindable.
I am nowhere;
I am lost.
I can't locate what I'm terrified people will see.
They always leave.
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