Just an ordinary little girl in the puddle of mess
a heart so big and a soul so deep, I was never afraid to give.
I will listen to stories of love, but yet I saw drafts of pain

What do you know about love, huh?
What do you know about happy endings?

I grew bitter and dark in a home that drove me mad, a place where there are no lights at the end of the tunnel, a place where I bled myself dry, a place where I'd rather be dead.

Each day after traumas my life was seen as perfect, after hell had broken loose, the world saw me smiling. She had it all...they thought. Maybe I am a good actress, after all, they didn't see the desperation, they couldn't see within me, I had nothing left.

See, this is the scary thought of not knowing, there I was lying on the floor bleeding, through a thin glass I saw myself dying but the world saw me smiling.

Now here I am, not afraid to leap, not afraid to love deep, scared of not knowing but always walking with my heart on my sleeve.
So, if you are going to talk about love, is it really just me or does it strike a nerve of not knowing.
Not knowing if you will be loved in return, not knowing if it will bloom or will it all crash and you watch yourself burn?

does it even scare you a bit? the last words are yours

S.B