She had built a wall so well around the fortress of her heart
But there were cracks forming

In her iron armour
There was rust forming at sharp edges

There was a feeling that
Maybe a connection
Wouldn’t be so bad after all

To live and not live
Surely that is a crime
To breath but not let love close
A mortal sin maybe

But she couldn’t see the faces on the souls that beckoned
She knew no one in which she would desire to connect

So what then?

When your young you fall into the arms of strangers without a thought

Wisdom brings many things

Solitude and often silence can
Sooth and yet taunt in unison.