it's like there are two parts of me
the old me - the not broken me. the happy me. the young, naive, childish, innocent me.
and
the new me - the broken me. the sad me. the frightened, withdrawn, distrusting me.
and you see it's odd because when i was breaking, i couldn't feel either.
i was just empty.
and when i was healing, they were both there, trying to fuse into someone else.
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i feel like i have to say something, to write something, to show someone what i'm going through. but nothing seems quite right.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts
PoesíaJust a collection of thoughts and emotions that were felt too intensely to be dealt with on my own.
