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With every broken heart I find myself scouring the past searching for some clue, sign, pattern of failure. Can I find a rhythm among the voicemails and unanswered calls? Do the stifled tears and sobs, collected from various midnights, carry a tune? Is there some kind of code among the bruises and scars scattered across my soul? Is there any hope that all the falling and failing and breaking is their faults and not mine?
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Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC
it's not you, it's me
With every broken heart I find myself scouring the past searching for some clue, sign, pattern of failure. Can I find a rhythm among the voicemails and unanswered calls? Do the stifled tears and sobs, collected from various midnights, carry a tune? Is there some kind of code among the bruises and scars scattered across my soul? Is there any hope that all the falling and failing and breaking is their faults and not mine?
sarah-fran
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Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC
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