breaking

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No matter how many times I tell myself not to, I can't stop myself from watching it, And everytime I do, I am always left feeling like my heart took a hit.
You’ve broken a million times over And you keep breaking  Again and again You’ll just keep breaking Until you’ve fallen apart  
The clouds held no light, For there was not another in sight. Artificial tears fell down her cheeks, just as carefully as she could speak.   Her hope was lingering.
You
You were there when I needed you the most… When I was breaking under pressure, Like a sapling overburdened with snow. I always thought of myself as a mighty oak,
I'll be there when your world collapses I'll be there every time you get hurt I'll be there every time the sadness creeps in like a cold fog under a streetlight at midnight I'll break my own back so you can have a spine
I want to break through your walls
It hurts again This familiar pain The ache in your chest The depressing rain The gloomy sky So high above It feels cold And chilly And somehow wet And it feels like
She always kept to herself She stood in her head Not once did she ever think about  Letting anyone else in Until he came around  He held out a hand She had never seen such a gesture 
"Hey.. are you okay? I see the smiles that you fake The hurt as you turn away When you bite your lip and pray Wish they'd tell you it's okay But nothing seems to stay When the world only sees mistakes 
I'm the strong one I'm not allowed to break I'm the protector of others I'm not in need of protection I failed my purpose I broke into pieces I didn't protect her from me
Life is perfect now it hasn't always been see all of the problems started around the time that I turned ten   My dad died when I was six and then there came the coke Mommy became addicted
Look in the mirror and seeIt's not broken butThe broken one here is meEven my reflection looks shattered
Cat-God. Scars on human souls like cracks on china plates, stone-cold glue seeping from wounds frozen mid-drip.   Cat-God. Paws against old wood shelf, one furry oaw on slick porcelain.
Do you think its ok to keep trying  even though you are not  good enough    Do you think that  its ok to keep going  even though you have tried hard but still have tasted defeat 
for as long as i can remember, my father has carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. it’s not bodybuilding because the diabetes breaks everything   he creates. he doesn’t walk very far—or at all, for that
Hear me out. Because I'm breaking. I don't know if you're listening to me Maybe you're just hearing me. Mom Dad Sister Friend Everybody Help me. I M F
They call me Melody Melody like a song I stand alone as an independent individual I stand out in the crowd of my school
the faggot in the reflection of my space helmet visor is my only friend. with shaggy shorn hair and big eyes and a hollow cheek bone that holds in my silent tongue. i have etched lessons in my skin, leaving silver lines
I have known this space for awhile now But like some old jeans i grow tired of it The thing that i thought protected me Stops me from reaching my potential The space that i enjoyed
I hardly watched my heart,  nestled warmly in my pocket.  Most days I hardly took notice. But some I did.  I took it out, and stared at the glass figure.  I began to toss the thing in the air. 
im breaking. listen to me crumbling like stones. i'm falling. through the cracks, i dont wanna be alone.
To the world, she is strong, resilient   some say smart   some say pretty   others say talented, perfect.
Poor little thing,Your weakness lies within your strength. Presenting as a monument,So strong and assuring,No one bothered checking For those cracks in the porcelain. They saw the sculpture 
A glass ballerina Sits on the ground.  Her Arms form a loop Above her head.  Her face Is raised towards the sky, Watching the world above. Light sparkles off her Transparent body and creates
I stand before a two way mirror Looking as a Widow That is Out of What (?). The Fall gets longer, higher As I stand Unknown of what lies ahead. Could be a World of bore Or
Writing is an escape From the things I can't control. Because my other method to cope Truly gives no control at all. My life is wild and crazy And the blades just make it hazy.
Are becoming so rough but nimble in my arms. They are fading away so fast that I can't explain or hold on. Dare I say this world is too narcissistic to tell itself its too frail?
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