are you a cold hearted bitch or a sensitive soul?
you may answer to one, you may answer to both, or you may answer to neither. but everyone starts somewhere, somehow.
your eyes lay on theirs for the first time and you feel as if a part of you has been touched by christ. you begin to question everything you have ever known, how can they be so perfect when you've been taught 'perfect' doesn't exist?
they notice you, the ghost within the halls, and it makes you feel alive, to be noticed.
the attention you never got was given to you in a shot glass.
but then it s h a t t e r s.
it shatters along with the million pieces of your heart you swear will never be put together again,
because someone else was skinnier, prettier, gave them everything you couldn't,
and then the light went out. and it became cold. and you swore you would never let anyone in again.
to hurt or to be hurt; that is not the question, but the choice.
[written by me]
