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Jasmine's poem
The pain is too strong to live,
But I'm too weak to die.
No, no guilt is holding me here,
No, it's the fact that you'll dance when I'm dead.
Now, the big question, Do I dig deeper?
Do I stain the floor with my blood?
Do I slit my neck, or stab my heart?
Now, I lay here, knife to my throat,
but the blade is too dull, and my mind too sharp.
It won't kill me, and I can't give into the bliss of sleep.
Counting sheep, but the sun is rising.
Another sleepless night.
Quick, put the knife back!
Quick, pretend to be asleep!
Quick, pretend that it's all okay, and that you aren't hurting.
Another night, trying to mend my broken heart.
Another night, spent broken, in the dark.
I am torn apart, crushed, cast aside, ruined, destroyed-
I am
broken





 
 
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