I've spent my life walking on my tiptoes. Mistakes. I hate mistakes. Neither my limbs nor my lips match my heart. They do not know each other. So many mistakes. When I was younger my mistakes were only mine and I could deal with them in the dark when the world stopped and I cried. Now mistakes count against me. Every one. Every mistake proof that I do not deserve to be relied upon, trusted, or invested in. Not because my true self isn't worth it. But because my hand may slip and injure you beyond healing. And I have learned those are unforgivable mistakes. So I walk on my tiptoes. I remember when I never cried. You thought I didn't care. I remember when I learned to cry and for a little while it meant something. It erased mistakes because crying meant I regretted them. Or at least that I cared. But then I cried all the time and to you that just meant I made more mistakes than I could keep up with. More mistakes than I was worth. Mistakes. I hate mistakes. I hate walking on my tiptoes.