Shard of Glass

It's quite sad. The more I grow with age and the more days that pass it causes more parts of me to die. I lose my childish innocence and naiveness. I no longer trust people so easily and people only use me more often; it causes my insides to grow cold and it forces my heart to turn into frost. It only makes my heart more easier to break; it contains shards of glass now and I'm forced to close myself up into a cocoon just so someone doesn't break the last parts of me. Those last parts of me are holding onto dear life and I know one day those parts will break just like all the other parts of me that I've lost. People miss those parts of me and I grow to hate them; if they never existed in the first place they wouldn't have become so broken. People wish for the parts of me that they took away from me. People are selfish, they just take and take until there's no more of me left.. and then they ask for more. What is more? What if I have no more? What if I'm empty? Will you no longer love me? If you love me still, why? Why would you even love me after I've lost everything you used to love? I will no longer believe your love. I will no longer trust you. I've lost everything. I have nothing to give. I am cold, I am frost and I've become as weak as glass. All you see is strength and jagged edges that dare to hurt you if you try to get close to me, but in absolute truth I am as easy to break as a shard of glass..