literature

Broken

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Literature Text

He broke me.
I knew he would, just not when.
I was attracted.
He said he loved me.
I knew he didn't.
Through the cuts and bruises,
Which pain will kill me?
The one
inside,
Persistant,
Dewlling,
No cure.
Or the one
on the outside,
Seeking my screams
from my burning flesh,
just for it's own satisfaction?
Why didn't I run?
Now I lay here,
His "helpless everything"
scarred,
silent,
lifeless,
broken.
My friend and I wrote this.

She has politely asked me not to mention her name.
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