Another night where I have to make an excuse for you, for why you left me in my room, curled up crying. An excuse to why it is that you can't keep a promise to the one persons who loves you the most. Yet, that's how it's always been. Eagerly waiting I'd have my hopes ripped up and drained. Other would try to let me see the truth but blindly I closed myself of that possibility. "You'd never do that to me," I would say not reassuringly, but trying to convince myself. Trying to destroy the fact that no matter what I did it would make no difference to you. Tears did nothing for me, except remind me of what I already knew, so why if I knew the outcome did it hurt? In fact it hurt all the more, it ached to know that no matter how much I wished for me to be wrong I was always right. Not anymore, not ever I found my solution. You broke my centerpiece, my soul, and my weak attempt to put back the pieces was a cheap imatation of my once wholesome, stronger than steel soul. Nothing left but glass, cheaply glued together. Once heavy with hope, and innocence has grown as light as a feather. I can't take another blow not to my heart, not to my soul, not to my centerpiece. So I built two wall surrounding my centerpiece, and around the last wall, an army awaits, and beyond that a mote with naval forces ready and equiped to kill mercilessly. Some say I'm too closed in, I'm blocking everything out, that my centerpiece is collecting dust, but atleast it's in one piece! I'm scared to death, not that I'd ever say, secrecy is part of the defense, to say too much is like opening a back door. I can't afford to have a backdoor open, not to you or anyone. Can you really blame me? I can't take another blow, it'll be my last, isn't it only reasonable? You do what you must to get protection. Truth be it told I am my protection, I have been for the longest, back then I was weak, no more than a cardboard cutout shield, but as my centerpiece continued to suffer at the hands of others I had to upgrade. So that no longer you nor anyone else can possibly reach me. Is it pricey?More than you know, or even want to, you never bothered to know how lonely, and isolated I've become. Now it's too late, it's too little too late for you to want to care. I've become paranoid, all you want is to hurt me, your word means nothing, no ones word means anything, I can rearrange them identify the true purpose you have for those words, to decieve, to manipulate, to get me at my weakest point. No not from you, or anyone else, your not fair, you'll say something but your intentions are completely different. How come when I say something I have to mean it, there can't be a second hidden purpose behind it, because then you make me feel bad, because you'd use it against me but you words can be anything. It's not fair! But that's fine I won't give your words a chance to reach me, not anyones words. That is my ultimate solution, although deep inside my centerpiece ache from the loneliness, it feels the ice grow over it, I beg for a change, for you or someone to prove me wrong, to break down my walls and risk everything to get inside to admir my centerpiece, with no other intention but to admir. Not to steal it, not to break it, not to drop it by mistake, because although. It's a mistake it doesn't hurt any less. To admir it, and maybe far in the future to share, and trade. To grow, to nurture with only good intention and no second hidden purpose. When I meet someone like that no matter how many times I get hurt, no matter how much it hurts I will not build Any walls, I will leave it out in the open knowing you will be there to polish it and buff out the rough edges.