I do not walk on eggshells but on broken glass sharp shards slicing into the soles of my feet Yet I will continue my trek forward for it will hurt no less to stand still I will continue to call out the single syllable of your name into the dreary darkness though my throat grows dry and my voice weak and weary for it will hurt no less to stay silent I will continue to hang onto hope though the friction of that rope leaves the palms of my hands red and raw for it would hurt far more not to love you