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two seven thirteen

I’m sorry that I’m broken, that I’m sprawled out on the floor that I’m crumpling into pieces as you open up my door. I’m sorry that I'm broken, that I leave trails wherever I go and that I never tell you how I feel so how I am you never know. I’m sorry that I’m broken, that I always am unkept and I’m sorry for those long nights for me that you have wept. I’m sorry that I’m broken, that I’m never in ‘good health’ but I want you to know, I’ll be okay - I’m trying to fix myself.
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Written by
rebecca-mcdade
Scottish
Published
Feb 4, 2014
Lines·Words
16·100
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