My heart pounded in my chest, jumping up into my throat, and drew tears to my eyes.

Water began to pour from my turquoise cerulean eyes. My head pounded from the adrenaline rushing like a hurricane in New York City rush hour. The throbbing in my chest bloomed like a sped video of a blooming flower. My heart, a fragile porcelain stone beating my life away, lay still and hung over the burning flame in the hole in my chest.

Tears streaks my cheeks, my morning hard work of a makeup-perfect face gone to waste. The water from my eyes soaked my skin to an irritated flush, my charcoal eyeliner marking it over with black lines. The blood in my veins rushed at a hurricanes speed and gave the force of a full-speed train slam to pound my head into a dizzy, mind-numbing, spiral. My porcelain-carved heart sat on its skew to roast over the raging flame building higher and higher, being fed by the virus of chemical love.