You make me sick.
Those eyes that always seemed to hold innocent, fun, relaxing, images.
Then it crushes.
Into a million pieces;
The detaining look on it, somehow were blurred.
And they kept being blurred.
Blurred.
And blurred.
Your heart shatters.
Into a million pieces;
The blurred vision only continued, somehow your hands felt wet.
And they kept being wet.
More.
And more.
It made you sick.
Dear you, what's wrong?
Those words they spoke; only one in a thousand.
"I'm very proud of you."
Once the vision clear again, you began to wonder.
