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Break

Break
That’s all we know to do. Each day is another bone broken by people who shed the same blood as ourselves. People who pollute the same air we breathe with a poisonous fog of hate.
Break
Because that’s all we can do when we don’t exactly match those around us. When we’re too tired to continue trying to fit in. Because we’re the only grey weed in a meadow where vibrant petunias mate.
Break
Because the only thing left for us to do is to become whole. Our lives are shattered little pieces of a porcelain cup, once whole and filled with the sweetest tea but now broken by the hands of a reckless child that was never taught to be careful with such delicate things, causing our existence to be at stake.
Break
One tiny minuscule insult isn’t enough to do harm, but when there’s harm already done it’s like digging in a hole that can’t go any deeper because there’s nothing left of the dirty, messy clumps that make up our existence. They can only pick so many leaves off of a beautiful tree before it turns brown and dead, and falls to the ground, flake by flake.
Break.

(2015)

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