Broken

I'm living enclosed inside a place nobody knows about where a part of my soul grows in the dark and it blossoms in the cold.
Being the only soul here, it gets lonely; nobody to hold me, but if only I was more like the old me and had more of an open heart policy.
This space allows me to hide my true face; pushing away out of this place others who get too close. I have come to just embrace it.
There's a certain limit I have when it comes to outsiders being in it trying to find and get inside of my mind to get closer, unaware they're not going to win it.
It's been a minute since I've allowed it; I'm not proud of it but I can't do anything about it.
So many have tried to get me to confide in them about my spirit that's died; I thought I was hiding it but never knew it was this visible on the outside.
I wear my heart on my sleeve but my soul's in a pocket; deep inside, I zip that b***h up and locked it, threw away the key so no one can come in no matter how much they're knocking.
The only thing accompanying me is a mirror that I allow to be this near for a reason clear enough to understand if you were here.
I punched it watching the cracks spread wildly, but the fact is that simultaneously the reason for that is so it can stay here with me.
Now I'm not as lonely, have no reason to pretend or fake a feeling and even have someone to understand what I'm dealing with when I look at the falling shards of my reflections, then pick my head up to see that I finally have someone here I can see who's as broken as me.