Her voice dripped dagger wounds into soft flesh-
jagged holes; uncommendable amendments in my life's canvas.

Tearing up at the thought of those tears is a daily occurrence, and oh how those currents pull me deeper still.

Suffocating-an unknowable fluid floods my lungs. I believe my doctor when he tells me nothing is wrong; nevertheless, I drown;

Dragged, kicking and screaming, to the bottom of my psyche.
My foundation eroded much faster than I could have ever known.

Though my foul foundations and pitiful psyche are pieces of
~me~
I thought it pertinent to remind you of my persevering personality.

Thus the following is true: Life is NOT like a box of chocolates, that ****'s hard, not sweet, so stop it. Secondly, without any strife, is it really a life worth living?