These words I write are just like everyone else’s
But when I write them with my emotions they become a piece of me
They don’t belong to you like they do me
Inscribed in each stroke against the paper forming the letters tells the detailed story of my pain
When you read past the words devouring every feeling from my broken box you too will feel the cuts from the glass as you try to pick up the pieces
You can’t fix me
My words are only here to help me understand rationally the irrational feelings
I’m numb now
You can empathize with tears
You can relate to pain
But still, these are my words
I hold the pieces of my box in my hands slowly over time finding the beauty in what I had left
Every so often someone would come and smack my hands
Shards of love would shatter against my flesh
Ripping through me
I am now naked
Vulnerably undressed

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