I've been hiding from love,
Ducking behind hard words,
Hard eyes, hard skin,
Sheilding my eyes from beauty and passion,
All to never hurt like her,
Never to get hurt like my mother.
Each day I toughen my shell
With thoughts of all those I know who've been hurt,
All so that my layers will never peal away,
And leave my heart too exposed to the world.
Although I would love to know the feel of the warmth
That radiates off his arms as he holds me,
I know that the comfort I'd feel would be fleeting,
Once he finds someone better, prettier, younger, skinnier.
Most think that my problem is that I'm pessimistic,
Others know how frightened I am of being hurt,
Hence why I don't know what's worse:
To be in love or to be alone.
But if its worse to be in love,
I pray I'll never find out.
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