I'd hide too, Waldo.

I don't want to be known
because who I am will not be understood.
And I don't mean that in an angsty way. It's just true.

But I want to be understood.
To be known, but loved anyway.

And not because I think I'm something special. 'Cause I'm not.
But just because this is the only chance I have
For living.
My only go-round.

And to live is to love.
And to love begs requisite.
To truely be loved is to be known.

But if known means you see my faults
...well, that's another question entirely.

(except not)