I am made of round and hard edges,
soft and sharp pieces.
In order to protect the remaining parts of my heart,
the broken parts turned outward.
Transforming into knives,
the ugly parts of me,
become the defense I never had before.
I once loved unconditionally,
trusted without question,
and it almost destroyed me.
So I allow the knives I have created to work their magic,
to keep you away,
to protect you,
to protect me,
And I remain alone wondering if I am better off without you.