What you don't know about me is that I am desperately insecure.

I don't trust ... not easily anyway. But when I do it's with everything I have.

I dream of someone who understands me.

What you don't know about me is how high my walls are.

My heavily guarded walls.

You don't know because I have not really shown you.

You don't know how nervous that makes me.

I've broken so many of my own rules.

What you don't know is what I don't tell anyone.

I don't want to feel so isolated.

Even now as I sit here with my friends,

I am alone.

(Damn, listen to me! When did this happen?)

I hate myself for thinking this way.

                                          That's another thing you don't know.

                                                               I am constantly conflicted.

                                                              Even now I question my own words

                                                                    In the end, I am afraid I'll just end up saying it again.

                                                                 People are tragically disappointing.

                                                                That's what you don't know about me.