• When you, with those icy blue eyes behind those golden eyelashes, are laying silently on the cold, hard floor crying, and the clear droplets of despair are quickly gliding down your sad, sorry, wet, panic stricken face, my heart stops cold. Face down, you are still the most beautiful thing I have ever laid my eyes upon. Maybe that is why the back of my eyes burn when I see you sprawled out on the floor sobbing because of your sudden and tragic loss of everything you once had.