When I was little I dreamt I was a stringless kite flying freely in the sky, I was the out-of-control wild type you could never manage to keep quiet. But when I met you, things somewhat changed and you brought me back on land and showed me that what I needed wasn't exactly in the sky but rather right beside you. I decided to give away my wings for one taste of your witty tongue and dangerous love. The only problem is that deep within me, and even though I had legs that I wasn't exactly designed to use, a hint of feeling out-of-place would always disguise itself in the most subtle ways you would always detect and hate, absolutely hate about me.
The idea of dying so I am finally free was tempting, I've got to admit it was the only thing left about that long gone dreamy girl you managed to change completely. And it's all confusing because no matter how hard I try to get away, I always find myself stuck inside my brain thinking about the way your lips form when you say you love me. And I bet you hate the way mine do when I say I don't want you. But baby, if it hadn't been for you, I would have probably ceased to exist by now.
Maybe I simply wanted you to love me with my flaws and pain and sorrow and everything that's me.
And maybe you cannot do that because no human can love unconditionally.