My short story's

Mess me up

Do you know how much you really messed me up?
     This is not a poem of love, but of sadness, sorrow, rage, and hatred.
     I am sad when I get flashbacks of all those times you let me down. All those times I cracked; sat shattered, on the ground like broken glass, but you were screaming too loud to hear my cries of terror.
     The inescapable terror that is my life.
     These flashbacks then put me into a deep sorrow. Where I isolate myself, because with every tear I'm tearing down the emotional block that I stayed up at night, while not getting any sleep, to build. So you, or anyone really, could never could come in.
     Once I am drowning in this sorrow, and my body is still because I've stuck to one position to keep me from pacing, it turns to rage and my body (bones) starts shaking. I can feel the blood in my veins heat as I gather up what's left of me from the area surrounding me. With these sharp, broken pieces I starting building. And as I build the usual wall around me with every piece I place, a stream of swears comes rolling off my tongue, in regards to you, and I pretend that each piece is in you, harder than the knife permanently in my chest.
     And once my barriers are back, I continue to hate you with the deepest hatred I can muster up from my broken soul.