i’m afraid that someone will meet my lips and taste stale cereal and close the lid. i’m afraid someone will open my heart and reveal cobwebs and old books about death and that i will have to explain and decorate, apologizing under my breath and they will never feel at home. i crave human affection in every way but i’m afraid my skin feels like sandpaper and my eyes are an abyss of the razors from my past and my tongue is nothing but a loaded gun with bad aim. people want soft grass and dandelions and cotton scented bed sheets and i am a splinter in the fingertip of their love.

i'm afraid i am nothing but a vampire who ***** the life out of anything that looks my way. i'm afraid that my nightmares will become reality and i will be the villain. i'm afraid that my bed will feel like spikes under his back. i'm afraid my demons will begin to haunt him if he gets too close. i'm so afraid that my knives will dull and it will be more painful than i intended. no one wants a destructive person to hold their ******* hand.

i'm afraid that i am none of these things and that my eyes will turn red at midnight. but even more so, i am afraid he will still find me beautiful and that i will **** him.