The QuirKy Diary

Emotional State.. Again

Behind my smile, there is a story you would never understand.

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A story that is so broken, so fragile. That one breath can tear it apart. My story is like an antique vase falling to the ground, the millions shards of glass scattered around the floor. No matter how much you try to help me fix it.. its still broken. My story is the vase. It was once decorated with yellow swirls representing happiness, blue zig zags representing sadness, red circles representing anger.. it was decorated with emotions. But now, it's all broken. It has no colour. It's just... broken.