Imperfection.

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I crave you in my deepest depressions. I fear you in brightest highs. In my midst of finding who I am and who I want to be, I get the sense of something going wrong. You call my name before I can even try to fix the broken pieces. How can I break from this bad if I never have a chance to? I bust like a balloon, see you laying there look just oh so daring so I do what every low self esteemed girl does, pick you up once again to undo all the work I have been doing to stay away from you. After the first I go numb, a great sensation comes over my body, a sensation of what ifs. What if I didn’t have to do this anymore, what if I could fix it all, but then I remember, I’m just like broken glass, you can put the pieces together but you can still see all the imperfections. That’s all I am to anyone. Imperfect.

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