Broken

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It's been a year, I'm fifteen now momma. I have scars up and down my arms now. I stopped cutting for a little while, but then I started again.

These girls at school bully me relentlessly. They call me broken and damaged and tell me that its no wonder you killed yourself since I'm a worthless slut and nobody in their right mind would want me. But oh well. They can be the reason I jumped off a bridge, when I finally get the courage to do it.

Everyone at home always tell us kids that killing ourselves isn't the way to end it. That there's always a better way and that we are loved.

But I'm broken without you momma, I want to see you again. And sometimes when I've lost a lot of blood, I do see you. You always tell me that there is so much here for me on earth, and that daddy couldn't take another heartbreak, so I stay. For daddy.

But I promise that one day, I'll leave this god forsaken world and join you wherever you are momma. Then I'll be fixed. But for now, I'll stay broken.

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