Cracks

When I look in the mirror I see a boy, with his eyes full of tears, covered in scars, he opens his mouth trying to speak and I see that the tip of his tounge has been cut off. The differences between this boy and the happy-go-lucky facade were startling. I wanted to help him, to make him feel better, in some way, but he just stood there weeping silentely. Gradually, he aproached me looking for some comfort, for someone to be there for him, I open my arms to him, and he rushes towards me, to cry in my arms, so he would finally have someone who truly loves him. It crushes my heart to know that no one will be able to help him and that he would stay like this forever.