Untill I die I shall burrow in the quicksand of sorrow. I shall bear my life to save his own. My dreams will fall out from under my feet and knock me to the cold hard floor. I cry puddles of sorrow and release depression from my heart so that you can thrive. I am made of glass. Fragile. I am broken beaten and battered but that doesn't change who I yearn to become. It's only sets me apart from the normal flow. It will make me...well...different . I have learned to live with only half a broken heart. I am Not Dead, but I am certainly not alive.
