Growing up is learning that love is hard. Hard to understand. Hard to find. Harder to live with. But you still need it. At least once in a while. And if you don’t feel it, you try harder, to understand, to find, to live with it. But love is dangerous. It can start wars. The kind fought in the chest, in the silence,behind closed eyes. And what if I’m afraid? Afraid to love and end up broken. Afraid to speak my heart, only to watch it get tossed aside. I’ve been like this for a while. Collecting feelings like broken glass, stacking them into walls so high no one could climb over. Not close enough to hurt me. Not while I’m still healing. Healing from tears. From nights I don’t talk about. I am a coward. A coward taught that feelings are weakness. And weakness makes you prey. But I don’t even know who the hunter is or if there’s one at all. I just know my emotions are a rollercoaster. A terrifying one. So I locked them away. Held my heart in my palm. Squeezed it quiet whenever it beat too loud. Push me away. Don’t let me stay. Don’t let me get attached. I don’t want to, not really. Sure, having someone would be nice, but not worth the risk. So no,I don’t want your smile. I don’t need your shoulder to cry on. I’m not hard to get,I’m impossible to keep. I'm a wildflower. One that hates to be touched or admired. That learns to grow through cracks without a single helping hand. Even if you get close, I’ll build higher walls. Draw tighter circles. Keep you further away. Because I don’t want to drag you onto a ride you never asked for. Or worse,let my storms leak into your sky. If I start loving,I fear I’ll repeat the cycle. And I’ll be the one to blame. So blame me. Hate me, if you need to. But don’t let me stay somewhere I can’t do any good.