With each tear that falls down your cheek, my heart breaks a little.
And as I stand watch a thousand miles across this lake that is compiled of the sorrows of those who condemn you, those who confine you to the smallest of boats, leaving you without a paddle, small frustration inside my soul is keeping quite.

Suppressing the raging fire that may or may not be blazing over the feelings inside my chest that act as an answer to the quiet torture that you suffer.

You fight your fires with deep breaths and words of wisdom but you and I both know that to those outsiders, your breath has been wasted.

Ignorance has presented itself to you as a new brand of earmuffs; tougher than a brick wall and more smothering than motherly love.

When you cry I often imagine what it would be like to drown in the flood of your frustrations and though you are miles away I can still feel it, leaving me soaked to the bone.

None of this is any of my business; it is not my place to be the lifeguard of that lake.
The saltiness of the water stings when it touches my soul giving off this feeling of urgency to throw you a life raft and pull you to my side.

I know that you are a good swimmer, but, maybe I will be your life guard anyway.