Teenage love is just so fake. Holding you hand, faking that I love you, taking you to a dance, eating lunch with you. I think that now, I am ready for the real thing. For someone to say that they love me and for them to really mean it with all of their heart.
Regurgitating visceral insults and spewing out vile barbs. A danger to all around. A pipe bomb, building, inculcating, and storing away immense pressure until I e x p l o d e. And you will see me for the destructive force I truly am.