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A girl like me...

To the thoughts in my head.

...but who could possibly love a broken girl with tattered wings and scars on her skin;
a hollow shell that slips her throat into the grasp of a noose when she gets home from school;
a fallen angel that cries at night and cannot seem to fall asleep because of the stress pounding in her ears;
a worthless failure who cannot even glance at a mirror without crumbling...
 
...but who could possibly love an object of derision;
a girl who cuts and starves herself;
a lifeless form that can no longer feel anything except pain while hiding under an insecurity blanket made of laughter and lies...
 
...but who could possibly love the silhouette of a once innocent soul;
the remnants of a shattered heart that fears being mended, only to be broken again;
a corrupted spirit who batters herself with unrelenting grief for eating as little as a grape;
a pathetic excuse for existing...
 
...but who could possibly love a good-for-nothing shard of devastation;
a mistake who feels so abandoned and vulnerable;
an abused canvas with numerous tragedies to hide...
 
...but who could possibly love a disgrace who cannot do anything right;
a pile of ashes and hopelessness;
a monstrosity who cannot complete the simple task of living;
a miserable depression made of silent screams...
 
...but who could possibly love a broken-winged angel like me?...
 
After all, what good are an angel’s wings if they won’t spread to take flight?

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