am i a wimp?
am i shutting myself off from contact just because i'm afraid that reality might hit me?
it appears i've lost my confidence.
to a certain extent, i was a teeny bit complacent even.

why would i allow myself to be lied to?
surely, you can't say the only vegetable you love is lettuce when you think of eating celery every other minute.
okay, what a crazy example that is, but same logic.
before i start my rants and let myself continue on like the past two hours,
i need to stop thinking.
stop.

false hope.
it's the worst present anyone can give.

i feel less betrayal than disappointment. i don't think i can continue on anymore. how am i supposed to take it normally, and naively let everything return to normal?
i can't even face myself anymore.
why, am i that imperfect? is my short hair too tasteless for you?

i let nature run its course.
should i have stopped it? should i try to stop it now?
no. if anything goes wrong, it's my fault for not being the right one,
but yours above all for faltering. for wavering, and for giving into temptation.
i credit myself for being a good actress. it's the best defence i can lay myself with.
and the best offensive tactic i can give, so that you won't hesitate.
not when the other side is as green as my school uniform, and my side is as brown, dry and barren as my skin.

after all, i'm giving you happiness aren't i?
i still make that effort selflessly. you can't find anyone else out there who's like me
in every,
single
aspect.

pain causes me to be bitter.
nothing less, nothing more.
every single memory floods back now. taunting me to make a move, pushing me to a corner, laughing at my naivety and incompetence.
i gave up so much. i end up losing everything. and gaining nothing but a dull, hurting spirit.

nontheless, if you ever see this,
don't climb back on to the centre of the fence.
jump back down to safety. or you'll force me to climb over to the other side and burn all that damned grass up. and then i'll consider whether or not to throw you a fire jacket.
i may have been known to give chances,
but don't screw with me. it's not as carefree as whisper's ultra overnights. because girls have emotions.
damn it.

you just made me the toy. it was never you, or him.

i'm not angry.
really, not pretences.
if you must know how i am,
i'm not broken either- just shattered.