[for every broken girl…]


for every broken girl there are recycled parts.
but you are never the same. sometimes at
night you wake to find your stitched hand
over your mouth. the motor inside your chest
sputters and leaks oil until you cough up
exhaust. but perhaps it is for the best.
better to yearn for something only certain
parts remember than have your whole
body ache for something that has been lost.

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