I have a name and I take all the wrong chances

I have a name and I take all the wrong chances.
I have lots of great friends and one bad one.
I love to read but sometimes I think it might be easier if I didn't.
I'm always loud and I wish that I was either loud in a better way or quiet.
I like my eyes.
Sometimes I stay up late and read with a flashlight under the covers.
And sometimes I cry.
Sometimes I wish I was a dog, or a rabbit or mouse.
I would risk choking on my own words if it meant that I could put certain ones back into my mouth and let other ones flow out with more confidence than I posses.
I have been told that I am domineering, rude, and a bad friend.
I love romance movies and letters and blank pages.
I believe I may have been born into the wrong time period.
When I'm home alone I sing, and loud.
And when I sing I play. The piano. Songs.
And I make sure all the windows are closed.
I'm awkward around new people.
I hate change, except for paint colors on walls, they don't bother me really.
I think I overreact, but I don't know if other people think I do. I hope they don't because I can't stand people who are melodramatic.
I know people who know me but don't understand me. I have friends who do both.
And someone out there understands me but doesn't know me.
And the one thing I would actually go for in life is not in a position to be gone for.
And today I decided I'm tired of being strong.