Monday, May 27, 2013

I feel like there's a hole in me that I'm always trying to fill, that I'm incomplete, a piece missing - I can't do anything useful until the hole is filled, until the hunger is satisfied, but it rarely is. I'm incomplete, a jigsaw piece is lost. And many things take more from me than I have to give, the hole gets bigger and I am secretly, invisibly, completely broken.

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