At the mercy of your photograph.
I said, "Don't worry I don't have a heart anymore." And he looked me dead in the eyes and straight through my walls and into my soul with those ice blue eyes. He whispered, "Yes you do, sweetheart, because I've seen it." And he proved me wrong, because that place in my chest that I thought was just an empty space, it hurts like hell. This wasn't part of the plan. This isn't who I am. Because I've learned one too many times, caring is a curse.