Honey, sweetened words

My life has been contagious to quirky moments. I have
even called myself quirky many a times. Yet the honey
I drop for those to come a calling tends to have stinging
wasps.

Clarity of the shields these detested insects project, fooled
me. I fell within their stinging lies and thrashed through
webs of deceit to cling deep within their arms. 

One does tend to ask, why did you allow it? 
Yet the question that angers me the most is
why did I chose to open myself?

And even in those doubting mentions towards
my own choices, time grates over the wounds
festering. This depth of my temper rising proves 
that I probably, in sound mind, would not have
allowed it the second time around.

And now where does the time stop? How do
I heal the heart, the spirit from the life I led?
How do I move forward when all that is
before me are reminders of the hurt? 

Build a wall again. Reinforce it. 
Lessons learned and inflammed, festering
wounds poulticed. 

Leave me alone is all I cast. Every word
gains strength. The words that were sweetened
now dig their own graves. Dripping like toxic
waste. 

Wider I say. Stand clear of those who want
to sting you. Cling to the dying heart.

Crumbled but malleble. I don't open the 
doors to my mind. No longer bothered by
the tedious mockings. Shoving away
all that could taunt me. 

Dare I ask you to entertain the idea I meant
something, even once? 

Yet I am not coming close that I may be drawn
in by the sugar coated words. I learned my lesson.
Keep myself closed.

I trusted you so well. I let you in. I hoped.
Then I failed to see just how tainted one sting could 
be to a life that was beautiful. 

Indeed I thank you. 

And now dare I say do you even care?

Nope.