Broken Children

When I get out of my bed,

I know that the day must begin.

I know that I must go to the gym,

to keep my body fit,

to keep my mind well.

But, when I imagine you not there,

my breath gets shallow,

even though you’re the one person I should not see.

It is always the cruel ones that we can’t seem to let go of.

We replay their words in our head,

because we’re used to thinking that the pain they put inside us is better than feeling nothing at all.

I feel my lungs collapsing.

It’s like a hand squeezing my heart,

like a brick lying on my chest,

and so I take a pill that makes me calm,

just so I can run on a treadmill.

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