I'm broken and I like it. I was raped several times. I tripped in a puddle of blood (metaphorically) and now I'm dying from the slowest form of suicide-- love. I cut, I like the physical pain over the emotional because at least the physical pain heals. Rape, Physical and Emotional pain, and Love--- all reasons to die, yet, all reasons I'm me.
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I MAY BE BROKEN, BUT I STILL WORK[/color:4652701fbb]
