Ice

My head lays on your chest,
As we cuddle in bed at rest,
You are always there,
Yet I say you're not allowed to care,
I know it's just because my heart is cracked and peeled,
And I know it's risky to allow it to feel,
Once burnt in flames or ice,
I soon learnt it wasn't nice,
I was broken slowly,
And broken wholly,
But even though I healed without scar,
I can't seem to let go, it's bizarre,
Did I spend too much time unfeeling,
That even now, when I'm done healing,
I can never let you in,
I despair, will I ever love again?
Or am I doomed to live as ice,
No love, just a "this was nice".