There's a tear in my sleeve, at my elbow, but you will never know just by looking. I've learned how to fold the sleeve just so, to make it look like I'm simply hard-working and practical.
There's a fracture in my heart, but you will never know just by looking. I've taught myself how to smile over the jagged-edged pain, to make it seem that I'm confident and happy.
Most of my life is spent finding how to hide the tears, working to make the ragged look whole.
Why don't I ever just mend things . . . ?
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