The speaker describes opening up to people, something they don't do easily, and being badly hurt for it. The people they trusted took "every single piece" of them and destroyed it. What follows is a quiet kind of aftermath: feeling unwanted, and coming to believe they deserve the pain.
The poem's second half turns inward. The speaker keeps "telling myself" that they'll never matter or be important to anyone, and that this is simply how life works. The repetition makes it feel like a script they've rehearsed until it sounds true. The phrase "people said meaningful world" stands out, because it hints at doubt: the world is called meaningful by others, but the speaker has not found it so.
The mood is heavy, resigned, and lonely. There's little anger here, only a tired acceptance. The short, plain lines and lowercase style make it sound like a private confession, and the closing line, about getting "used to it no matter what," is especially sad.