What do you want me to say?

In spite of my apparent self-confidence, I worry no one will want me

and grass may never grow beneath my bed

I'm twenty-one and divorced and ashamed of my mistakes and pretty sure no one wants to open that bag of pissed-off cats

Speaking of cats- I may end up with more cats than friends and have an occasional f*ckbuddy who doesn't want to talk about my past

I'm not the same person I was when I made those decisions

Sure, but try explaining that to someone when he's on his knees

When you don't have the tits to tell him who you used to be

When you want him to stay so badly you'll lie about your past

Worried he'll vanish the moment he knows

Is that what you wanted me to say? I'm afraid?

I am.

I'm terrified.

Happy?