The truth is, I can’t tell you all about yourself. I can only see you from a ways away, I struggle for the courage, so that one day I can, that one day I could tell you all about yourself. Every time I see you I raise my eyebrows. I used to think it was my shy way of saying “Hi”. Now I realise it was me asking “What are you?” Because you couldn’t be human, you seemed so perfect. Now I’ve heard a deep, nasty secret, but I can’t bring myself  And that’s why I can’t tell you all about yourself. I can’t bring myself to do anything, and the secret just makes it harder to act. I’m terrified, no longer are you the girl I thought you were; now you’re something different, something wrong, something I’ve been told is undesirable. And yet, you seem so nice.