I am incomplete, I can not move, I can not breathe, and for me there is no such thing as relief.

I am incomplete, because my soul can not be contempt, because my heart is torn in two, and because I feel nothing without you.

I am incomplete, I am alive yet in my eyes I look far more dead, if you look inside me there’s an empty cracked head.

I am incomplete, I’ve led myself to move but few understand how hard that was all that it took to tear me down was such a soft touch, you’d think that wouldn’t be enough.

I am incomplete, because I can barely even write even though my rhymes are at their height.
I am incomplete because this poem itself is incom… never mind I don’t have the words…

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