Come Clean

A little honesty.
It seems like such a simple thing to give someone.
It's all yours; you can have it.
I took a deep breath, and let the words slither off my tongue and out my lips.
When I heard what I said in my own ears, I felt the bruises you would leave.
I care enough that it's okay for you to do it.
I care enough that it's okay that you will likely break me.

My brokeness wouldn't be anything new.
Maybe I should've been honest about that instead, but I think you knew.
I hate how you always know; I hate how I don't have to say it.
I love how you make me do it, regardless.
I hate when I think too much; I hate when I wonder why you call.
I love how when you do, It doesn't matter why you did.
I have this love and hate affair with how you make me feel.