The ugly things my mind creates

Poems, feelings & stuff.

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6. Imperfect.

Next to her,

I was the definition of imperfect,

while she was perfection.

I guess I just always thought that you were different,

that someone for once wanted the imperfect one.

Who was I kidding?

That's like buying a toy that's already broke.

Everyone wants the shiny,

funny,

and pretty toys.

I guess I've just always been the faded, broken toy.

And thats what I felt like when you choosed her.

Broken.

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