The bells are weeping

My life is yet unknown to me.

We are all bad guys, our hearts were born grey.

You make me free reckless.

My parents don't like liars.

I end up pulling my heart out every time we talk.

But somehow it's never your fault.

I think I pull out everyone's hearts.

Maybe I should join a convent.

Maybe I should just put my heart away.

Love only comes when your heart is open.

Close it and nothing gets in.

Not even hate.

Not joy.

Not fear.

I can't have you, so why don't I just close my heart?

Maybe I was never ready.

Maybe I'm just a bad guy.

This poem is about: 
Me

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