Overdose, mental hospital, and more numbing tragedies compiling in life's glove compartment. Amidst the bills and colored kid drawings. These are the crosses I have to bear. Nosy highschool friends call and give me their rehearsed opinions. Understandbly they might be right. Maybe they should worry even if half halfheartedly. Maybe i'm in self destruct mode. Maybe I am doomed. Toxic tales coming out of the woodwork. Family in their defining moments, showing true colors. Colors soaked in formaldehyde. It's a lot for one girl to take on. I will walk the line, I will carry my head high. I'll keep trying to cross the finish line, maybe I might see some of you there.