I'm in the QUICKSAND!

The smell of despair graves in the air. I cant let myself forget about all the joy and sorrow colapsing. I cant let go the pictures. They are inked in my mind, my heart. Guess i wont stop thinking about you every minute, every second. I guess i need them. And i'm beging on my knees to stop the torture. I'm torn apart. And for sure,

I don't belong in here.