nolove

Someone asked me the other day if my glass was half empty or half full.  I was going to say it's empty, but that's not completely true.  My life isn't void and I have my happy moments; but they usually just seem to disappear, or get worse.  So, my glass is cracked.  Yes, cracked.  It gets filled up with happiness and hope, but it always ends up escaping my grasp.  It always ends up empting out.  It will never be full because it's always leaking.  And one day, it will get thrown away, because no one wants a broken glass.