i wrote this at 12:40am, and i kind of hate it

i’m a broken girl now, aren’t i? watching my back, and following the crowd. because you know perfectly well what happens, when you let yourself stick out.

i’m a broken girl now, aren’t i? ripping up my skin like old carpet, tired of these bones. angry, and lost, and alone.

i’m a broken girl now, aren’t i? covered in tiger stripes, and leopard spots, nothing more than a nice fur. a prize to be won. and i’ll sit here, and smile, and kiss your cheek. two for one.

i’m a broken girl now, aren’t i? now i can’t keep going. and the idea of tomorrow instantly makes my shoulders ache, and my eyes slip closed. but watch me. watch me smile for the crowd. watch me grab some duct tape, and say that it’s art as i slap it onto my mouth. because i know what i’m doing. and i will do it well.

even though i want to be happy. and i don’t think i can take this much longer, now.

because i want to be happy. but i don’t know how.

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