In all my goodness, I am broken.
I find myself...to caring.
I find myself...to attached.
I find myself to involved with trying to bring a little bit of star shine into your life.
And in the end...
I'm left with this mess.
A bag full of insecurities and flaws.
Thrown to side...
Though made of china... it doesn't matter.
Because we view people, as objects
And that's the problem...
We aren't,
We are all stars from the sky,
And though some may fall...
We are all beautiful, unique...
Stars