You met the version of me that still believed in warmth— unfiltered, unguarded, sweet without needing a reason. I let you into rooms I kept padlocked, fed you from palms that only knew how to give, not realizing you came with empty pockets and a hunger that devoured without gratitude. I made you the exception— called off the guards, told my demons to rest. But you? You taught me why they existed. Now I build walls from your silence, lace my words in barbed wire, laugh with a little more edge, and trust like it’s a felony. You wanted innocence, then taught it betrayal. You wanted my light, and dimmed it. You turned my heart into a fortress— and babe, that door? It's locked now. And you? You're the reason