You are my shortcoming.
Weak spot.
fragile ground that I have to walk on oh so carefully.
Mentally I cry as I run by you, rethinking why I’m descending downward, looking for an ounce of logic or reasoning, I’m becoming psychotic and idiotic.
This glass covered in dust that I’m walking on surrounds me, and the dust bounds and grabs me and I’m astounded.
You’re mind is like glass, easily shattered if I utter breathlessly or otherwise carefully words of opinion or notion.
  And yet again I ponder why I feel this way towards you.
I have to watch my words next to you or you will become furious and serious,you become a dazed, crazed man that harms and alarms me.
And still, my emotions towards you are messed up at best.
I’m depressed and stressed.
I’m getting further and further distant from that glass heart that is abstract art.
Why do I stay?
My bruised and abused heart can’t take this anymore.