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What's broken might not ever be fixed, yet must always be faced. Poems about what lacks, about what's missed and what's lost; I hope you can find your way out after you get to the center of this maze.
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These are truths I was never taught to speak. Here lie the words I swallowed, the pain I buried, and the questions they told me not to ask. For the unheard. For the unseen. For the ones who feel too much in a world that tells them to feel less. I write for you. I write for me.

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