Truth Is

It scares me to think of how much I've given to the ones I've loved and lost.
No longer does my chest feel light, my head clear, and my heart hopeful.
A lit cigarette now sits, perched between my fingers, its smoke filling my chest, distracting my head from the now constant string of thoughts.
I can feel the wall I have built to keep others out.
Pretending its not there, like someone has a chance to break through, would be silly.
We both know, my heart and I, that that can't happen.
Letting people in, allowing them access or the chance to get close, is also allowing the likely chance of heartbreak.
Normally I'd try my odds, but I simply don't think I have anything left to give.
Truth is, all love does is take and take and take.
If they took anymore, if I lost more of myself, I think I'd be gone.