and, see, the thing is:
i'm afraid of you.
you make me scared,
rabbit-heart jumping in my chest,
pulse beating in my ears,
the taste of blood in the back of my throat.
you make me feel so awfully small,
like the little sister you always wanted and never got
and the first day you disapproved of me
it seems like all the reasons you like me are lies,
things that don't actually clutch truth close,
so i don't really know if you like me at all
and you'll be here,
in a half hour,
and i don't know how to handle that.
i guess i'll see how long i can go
before i spill crimson from behind my closed eyelids.