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Apr 2014
I broke myself into a thousand pieces
Because it hurt less than to live a life of glass
Did he want to see inside?
Did she want me to feel alive?
I hit the ground like a vase full of violets
Purple petals spread across the floor
Shattered pieces of myself, memories, thoughts, reactions
It was better this way
I was better this way
I was better
A statue made of glass
I have no idea how to categorize this.
Gypsy
Written by
Gypsy
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