This a metaphor, a literal representation of disease and irony, my childhood in a photograph. She always hides her glass next to her Bible on the floor. The two-foot radius surrounding this shot has been the site of too much hatred. Too much abuse. Too many traumatic nights. Even though I've moved on with my life, she still hasn't. She is still stuck. Still hurting. Still sick. Still alone with her demons. I don't like remembering, I have even come to a point where I won't allow myself to recall what life used to be like..for so long. Buts its a haunting sight like this that causes the memories to slither back in my conscious. From it all, I have gained an unmistakable amount of compassion. Without suffering, one would never have the capacity for compassion. Even to a fault many people have told me, I indulge in that compassion. I spread it thick on every relationship. No one ever regretted loving lavishly. So to those hurt and apathetic individuals who see my eccentricity for loving others as "over the top" I have but one thing to say to you.

I love you.