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Staring into a broken reflection
of tarnished imperfection,
marred with syringes and drugs
each pill breaks me down like a bug
reaching my limit till I collapse.

Therapy increases thoughts of suicide,
realizing your promises were lies.
Distortion rakes my mind into falling apart
already failing, I've lost my heart,
only so much pain can be endured.

I think I'm going insane
because dying here in shame
I have pushed away everyone I know,
and having nothing to show
I'm finally letting go. ~Juliet Sinclaire

(If you understand the poem you will understand what will happen in the next chapter)

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