Broken

Broken.
Pieces scattered.
Some missing.
Some gone for good.
Holding as much together as I can.
Still not enough to keep it in though.

The hurt.
The anger.
It spills out.
Then I break others.
I try to fix them.
Put them back together, but I can’t.

Now bits of them are missing.
Gone for good.
That’s on me.
That breaks me all the more.

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