[Just a quick note, folks: I think this might be more "prosetry" than anything else, so if there's a better section for this to go, just let me know, kay?]
The problem with me?
I squish butterflies and won't let you touch me much.
I hate red roses and picnics and love songs. (Sometimes)
Moonlight means nothing, unless I'm alone. (Sometimes)
My hands are nervous, they don't like being held
Ignore me for a while, and you have my full attention. (Sometimes)
Throw out all your sincerity and I'll be fascinated.
But Love me? (Always?)
You've made a mistake.
I squish people too.
It burns me inside, but it follows me like a bad habit.
There's something that feels right in your eyes,
but I can't stare you down for very long
I don't want to hold on.
Don't want to let go, either.
I'm not going to rip this sleeping heart out of my chest.
If you want it, you figure it out.
Tab A and Slot B don't actually work; believe me, I've tried.
I'm a jigsaw puzzle.
But I think there's some extra pieces in there....
and a few missing.
Still, in the back of my mind a tiny voice whispers to you,
Please don't give up on me.
I need someone to grab me by the hand and say "Dang it, you're coming"
And how I wish you could do that...
