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I know your okay but what about me? Do you ever think about me. Do you worry about my mental state or what’s going on in my body. Did you consider that before you broke me? No. It’s you it’s always you. And you know I’m not okay but don’t know how to deal with me not being okay. But i know how to fix you. When your sad. When your upset. One word and your fixed. Happy. But that won’t work for me. I’m broken and your a mechanic you fix me and break little parts so I have to keep coming back for you to fix me. You were my person. My comfort. My reason. Now you give me reasons. Reason to doubt myself. To pick apart and throw away. My reason I hide and seek in others looking for redemption but you don’t care. So what can I do?
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