Galaxies, honey comb and graffiti

Oh, the darkness inside of me
A galaxy could take up residence
In the gaping hole in my chest
Inside of me my fire has gone cold
I burn cold because the worse thing I could do is melt
I never meant to become the cynic shell I am
I was a hopeless romantic once, I still am but
I was this girl who'd write poems about your hands
About how they held me perfectly close to you
How my hope swirled like smoke between your fingers
How my heart beat slowly, perfectly in their grip
But now your hands are claws trying to cage me
All the hands that reach for me are clawed and sharp
They always leave bruises on me and on my heart
I'm anemic again, somethings wrong in my blood again
I can't sleep again, I can't eat again, I'm cold burning poetry again
They tell me that we evolve as the years go by
But I feel like I was born to be a ruin hidden far in a mossy forest
Somewhere teens have to hike to get drunk and fuck in
But no ones place to come home in
I have had the homeless sleep inside of me, sure  
But it is desperation that drives them out of the cold
To a place that cannot hold the warmth inside of them
I don't want to be mean, I don't want to be mean
But I have been changing and I don't see you in my future
You want me to not be a ruin, to shove all my endless space down
You wanna renovate my graffiti heart, knock down my busted walls
And I'm not about that life of changing for a lover
I welcome the moss on my stone and the vines holding me up
I welcome the fox sleeping in the corner and the bird nests in my rafters
I accept my friends taking up residence but you just want them removed
I have this horrible ability to love so many at once
I have a honey comb heart, neatly packed pockets of love
My anxiety is the bees keeping it all neatly separated and perfect
If you don't love someone too much, they can't hurt you right?  
I want to change my love style, I'm changing my love style
I'm crushing my honey comb heart and pouring it in a bottle
And looking for someone to give that bottle to
One who gasps at the beauty of my ruin and not mentally
Thinking about all the ways to renovate me