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oh, the irony
(and no, this is no love poem)

i'm shattered
broken into little pieces
scattered on the floor
where anyone, any person
can, with pleasure, step on...
oh! the little pieces.

i shatter
with every word you say, or
act you do
you.
you alone have the capability
to shtter me.
you control me.

and how ironic
for all these things
see to happen to me, when
I.
i have finally felt
complete.

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