.Freestyle.

When I was younger,
My heart could have been described as rapped up in string.
So confined,
So precise,
it would not let anyone in.
It wouldn't breathe, it wouldn't be exposed.
Whenever I heard a *knock*
The answer would be "NO!"

No to the fantasies
No to the lies
No to the lows along with the highs.
I was convinced that if my heart was raped up so thick
No one would go out of their way to pick at that string.
To try and expose the remnants that reside within.

No chances for pain
No chances to hurt
No chances to, yet again, get treated like dirt.

Just no way

And I have supposedly "loved" in the past,
Given my all
Give and
Give and
Give and
Give.
And get what after it all?
I can give to him,
Pleasure him,
Crawl and beg
Plead and cry
Do and say everything right.
To get what in return?

Laughter
Tears
Pain
Stares

Which of these link back to love?
Love and rough works,
Love and humiliation,

Love and you.

You
Were suppose to be my escape;
My exit,
To help me out of this gruesome and cruel world.

Yet I realise,

Again,
Why my heart was rapped.
Why I didn't want it un-spun
Why I didn't want love in the first place
And hid from the pain

Now,
You've added to that string.
And I too have added more layers.

Two more layers.