You weren't the one to break
my heart.
Years ago, another tore it
apart.
Yet I will give credit where
credit is due.
The
theft of my soul, that belongs to you.
There
are walls surrounding my all.
High
ones. Strong ones. Thick and tall.
Men
have tried to climb them, but most do not succeed.
The
first one to triumph; literally made me bleed.
My blood
served as mortar, protection from future harm.
Happy
in my world. Writing my own future. Avoiding any storm.
My
blue-eyed dreamer somehow found his way through.
I
almost lost myself for good that time, but saw past his dreams, shining in
those baby blues.
I
played the game and boy do I play it well.
Mistress
of my kingdom. Author of my hell.
My
life was a script, written along those walls.
Carving
in stone the truth, about the voices echoing through my halls.
My
imagination took charge of my pen.
Our
story took a drastic turn, forcing my eyes open again.
You
demonstrated the hollowness of your soul.
Then
claimed you had no control.
My
weaknesses were on display.
Because
of this, you almost had your way.
Throwing
yourself upon your sword, and I started to believe.
Moments
later I knew it was time to leave.
Leave
you behind and patch up my wall.
I
still don’t want you to know how far you made me fall.
My
heart had been under lock and key.
Once
broken, I hid it away, no one could see.
Never
suspecting I had anything left to lose.
Leaving
the rest of me exposed, practically asking you to choose.
You weren't the one to break
my heart.
Years ago, another tore it
apart.
Yet I will give credit where
credit is due.
The
theft of my soul, that belongs to you.