Bullshit. You walk into a china shop and carefully place cups on the edges of glass shelves and smirk at other people who put them back.

I was an actual bull in a china shop for most of my life.

In sixth grade I walked straight out of the classroom and all the way home after boys made fun of me even though I knew my mom waited for me wishing I was dead.

I used to want to bring a baseball bat to a crystal shop.

You said you were a bull in a china shop and now my fantasy is being a huge bull… crushing the entire shop. Grinding it into sand. Thinking about how porcelain is made. Thinking about how fire transforms sand into glass.

This is why I think I’m not easy to love.