"you with your words like knives and swords and weapons that you use against me"

Why, when I do not care about you,

can you still get to me?

My heart doesn't have room for these frivolous scares

you always leave behind.

You had your time when it was yours for the breaking

but now it's mine and I've chosen that,

too bad I can't choose to have you not effect it anymore.

There are things I can't predict, don't expect

it's those low blows especially that keep those walls up,

walls I pray will be demolished so that a person worth a shot

might actually get one.

As much as that little hopeful girl can still survive inside of me,

the experiences cage her in and tell her it won't last,

scream at her to remember the pain

remember how they hurt you and didn't even think twice.

One word:mess.