It's like slowly suffocating from inhaling toxic judgment, lies and even worse, silence. Lonesome longing for what can never take place because naivety only happens once in a lifetime and after your glass heart shatters, the pieces become impossible to pick up. You have to sweep them up as best you can and the tiny shards left behind to linger in the corners of your memory, haunt, never to be forgotten. It is a slow bitter taste that stays on the tongue long after swallowing down the outbursts. It is the tears of pain from the thick smokey air you can cut with a knife.