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Broken Girl
There is always a broken girl
stands before a bathroom mirror
her iris shattered, she imagines
it is the mirror.
Pretends her soul reflected
in a million disillusioned pieces
perhaps in this morbid dream she believes.
She never does fit in
but this is not enough
has to make a dark martyr of it
a bad habit.
Screams in silence
and then pretends
she doesn't want the attention.
Carves her skin and to hide the scars
she wares long sleeves, always black
even when the sun shines.
She never smiles
and has to work hard
not to be alright.
It is never her fault
and maybe sometimes it really is not
but she becomes so good at it
she wares a badge of blood
with cursed pride.
She dresses herself in excuses
has to hold tight to the pain
or else it may all go up in smoke
and she will be left
standing exposed in the rain.
8:39 PM - 5/1/2007 -
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