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.
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.
February 2012
