Shawd Box

I don’t know how to say this and I really don’t know where to start but I never had real love unless it came from my father. To open up and let someone come in is so much harder... living life with regret and so much hatred towards men...loving me will end before it actually begins. I’m a pain in the ass and I know it and being a poet is something that I’m good at and it can’t be stolen like my heart when you whisper sweet nothings in my ear. My heart melts so easy because I fall for cheesy pickup lines because I’m desperate to find someone who will actually fulfill this void that I’ve been dismissing. Someone who makes my life complete, someone who loves me for me, someone whos not afraid to say the things that I’ve been needing to hear since love doesn’t live in my heart. Home is no longer where the heart lies because the porch light is turned off and my emotions won’t answer the door because my mind is too afraid to come out the closet. It’s hiding because my trust issues have already broken in more than once and stolen the last bit of hope that I ever had left standing. I tried to turn into this ice-cold bitch but I can’t because my emotions won’t let me. Its locked away in this closet but it still feels as if it’s beating at a pace that only a few will understand....so if I give you a chance to hold my hand get to know the real me...please be patient. Use the key to the broken house wisely and slowly repair things with time. Don’t rush to upgrade when the house is worth so much more and don’t rush to explore my soul when it’s easier to leave the keys at the front door.