It’s like a broken biscuit or spilt milk.
But I won’t cry over it, there’s no point.
It’s like kneeling on glass but your yearning for that soft silk
Or like crying out in pain because nobody will fix that joint.
It’s like asking for help and then they ignore you
It’s like hurting yourself just because you wanted to.
It’s just like wanting to be beautiful because they said you’re ugly.
It’s like praying to God asking him to lift this curse on me.
Deadly...
It’s like the frustration permanently embedded in you because you’re just that angry...
It’s just like a broken family.
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