I'll show you these scars and the stories they tell,
The things that I carry and the things I hide well.
You'll listen with the grace and poise that's expected,
But I'll fear when I'm done I'll find myself rejected.
Some time has healed, while others have not,
Some I've fixed, while others I've left and now rot.
You'll try to soothe them through kisses and words,
But deep inside me the river of pain is still stirred.
But they're not yours to fix and not mine to keep,
It's not through you my relief I should seek.
I've carried these things and I carry them still,
I can overcome them now through my own will.
I just ask that you'll believe me and on me risk,
A life we can build on a first and a last kiss.