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I know not every girl has a 'break up' box.
I know I do.

It's full of useless pieces of paper.
Movie tickets.
Parking receipts.
Itineraries.

It's full of meaningless pieces of junk.
A broken bracelet.
A sad Domo figure.
A bottle.

Useless. Meaningless.

They meant so much to me.
As did you.

That parking ticket was the last thing I got before you broke me.
That bottle was the last thing your lips touched before you left.
That bracelet you won for me at a pub quiz.
That movie ticket marked the first time you held my hand.

And now, I look at this box.
One that held so much pain.
I wish I could say I feel better, now.
But,
I feel...
Nothing.
I just wanted you to know.
To let my thoughts be solid, tangible words.
Because even though I hate what you’ve done to me,
How you’ve made me feel.
If you said you were sorry.
That you were wrong.
That you messed up.
I’d still want you in my life.
Red drips down my pen
Along the passages of my sorrow
Within the lines of my emptiness
I ended up with your name
 Nov 2016 Casey Hamilton
Banana
My dad is so proud because I'm going to university,
My mom sees hope,
And my sister looks up to me.

I'll become a doctor,
and my mom will tell her friends,
I'll have kids and a husband and take antidepressants.

I want to die so bad sometimes but I'll never take that leap.
My life is a promise to them I've still got to keep.
Sometimes I wake up
And pretend that I'm better
Put on my mask, and pull on my sweater,
It feels like a hug, and safety,
And lately, I could use some love,
So I smile in the mirror
After I hide in concealer
So im safer, not freer
Hi, this is 'me',
why don't you meet her?
Another old poem... it's funny, the things you learn about yourself from what you forgot you wrote...

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