I'm friendly
But I have a mean stigma about me.
I want to open myself up,
But the anecdotal fears haunt me.
I love,
But I'm never loved truly.
You see me,
You want me,
You fool me.
I'm to blame,
I'm clearly naive,
I'll show my wounds,
My heart on my sleeve.
I'm the guilty,
Of giving too much,
Draining my all into others,
Who don't give a ****.
Do I give up,
Or continue filling my flimsy cone shaped cup?
The thing about love is,
When you're giving it out,
There's always enough.
-Wordz