Have you ever met that person
Or those people
Who touch your life in such a way
That nothing is ever the same?
Those who,
When gone,
Leave you tattered in pieces,
Rotting into nothing?
They turn their backs without one worry for your sake
And you die inside.
Every time they come up in life,
A little piece of your soul dismantles from the rest
And you are never the same again.
I act solid as stone
Cold and strong
No fear, and no worry
Only silence and concrete
But image only exists to others
Those of the outside world
Watching,
And you're blind.
In actuality,
In true, depraved reality,
I worry about myself.
I am afraid of who I will become
And who I have became.
All because of those ones
Who have destroyed my entire being
Time, and time again:
I am not strong,
I am not impenetrable,
I am vulnerable and weak hearted,
And I am not me.
Transformed, now I stand
A shadow of my old self
Breathing but not living
Moving and getting nowhere
Silence without peace.
And the sick reality is
I did it to myself
Because no matter how cold I act
The foundation will still fall
When you allow even the smallest nail
To break through your walls,
Even with good intentions.
