My feet may be small but in certain shoes they create thunder,
I try to walk lightly.
I feel that I make too much noise as I walk.
I don't want the world to take notice of me.

Sometimes,
I clank my heels against the pavement,
waiting for heads to turn,
waiting for the world to notice me.

I am a bundle of contradictions,
I am the biggest hypocrite that I know.
I give advice that I would never take,
tell people to run when I stand still.

With you my feet are not quiet nor are they loud,
they are shaky.
For the past nineteen years they've done a great job of holding me steady,
but around you they seem to forget how to function.
I forget how to function around you.

I thought I built walls tall enough for only the ones who cared would scale,
but you got in and started swinging.