The Stones Of My Cell

As I ponder about the cell for which I’ve made for myself, I am without fear, for no one can now touch me.  As each day passes, the stones harden with the experience and failures of my youth.  I’m afraid to let anyone in due to the pain I’ve suffered, and the harm I’ve caused to others in the past.
People speak of love, forgiveness and the joys of freedom, as though they were something tangible; but what of the heartbreak of loss, the hatred of jealousy , or the anguish of not being able to share the love long held and often hidden, from whom who can only be described as ‘the one’.  
The grey stones which now encases my soul, I’ve painstakingly carved myself; from the many years of mistakes I’ve made in the past; for they are the only true comforts I have ever known.
Only once before did I allow someone in, and through the damage and anguish she caused I’ve built my wall twice as thick as before, leaving no more room for mistakes or grief. As the years have gone by, my heart has grown cold, as the stones of my cell, for now I understand the true meaning of love, and to much regret can never feel such warmth again.
Even though my wall is high, the hell she has put me through; forever shall I treasure.