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The Break Room

This is the final breaking of a bone before it can heal,

the long-awaited anticipation of how badly it will hurt,

my last whispered prayer before it gets worse,

my loudest scream that you will never hear in this hospital room.


I am not the first broken person to walk through these revolving doors, 

teeth clenched, eyes closed, and waiting for it to be over,

the fantasy of being whole slowly dismantled, 

and wondering what all this pain will ever be worth.


A cold hand reaches out for my hand,

a swift strike and loud howl unearthed from deep within,

breaks me like glass that needs to be put back

then pinned into place but never the same —  

it hurts just as bad as one would think.


 
 
 

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