Broken People

The most broken people wear the pain in their pockets,receipts from all of life tests dressed in Sunday best. Lipstick kisses and love messages still on my phone, the thought of being alone scares the hell outta me, I put myself back together in the stormiest of weathers, sticking my heart together like birds of a feather. As I picked my feet to walk I could hear his voice talk, my silence is like a nought in a cross between being broken and fixed.

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