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Tectonic Plates

every organ must be floating in my self- loathing, my brain detached and sparking in the fluid, crying out to me, logically *get off the balcony, Romeo isn't who he appears to be* and my lungs are flooding quickly, but my heart beats without the need to breathe, every piece of me is independent, and yet they all ache from the same damn pain, and I hate the credit I'm giving you just by waking up, trying impossibly to forget you - I hate you, I swear to God, I hate you for making me weak, for making me believe this ache was caused by you and not me
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Written by
alexandra-emmalie
Published
Jan 2, 2015
Lines·Words
19·109
Notes

I should have ended this poem long ago, but I still have so much to say but I don't know how to convert rage and pain into words.

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#fuck
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