If your glass is filled with shit, it doesn't matter if it's half empty or half full...it's still filled with shit.

I may be in over my head...but at least I'm drowning in bliss.

A heart not beating doesn't have to feel.

Withered hearts cry bittersweet blackened tears caused by their own naïve necessity and optimism for love and redemption to be within their grasp.

Rapists, murderers and pedophiles lurk beneath the fabricated conception of a civilized reality.

See past my fragile disguise. See the real me, shattered and bleeding. Lying amidst my broken pieces, screaming behind porcelain walls.

If you so choose, grab someone’s hand and aid them in removing themselves from the pit of their depression. However, be warned, realize when they are too far gone and release them before they drag you too down, with them.

Crisp, crystal teardrops freefall to the parched ground, opened with welcoming arms and anxiously waiting for its sustenance with intensity that mirrors no other.

You shattered me. I slit your throat with the pieces that remain, drowning in your tainted blood. Christen me.

I can’t erase the pain of yesterdays; the past has been etched in stone. But I can however, create a vision for the future, something to hope for and hold on to.