Why do emotions have to make such a mess of things?
Sometimes I feel that's all I am: emotions.
All stuffed into this little space called a heart, that tends to fill up my entire body and mind.
Sometimes they make me such a mess.
I wish I could pick them up off the floor of my heart and throw them away forever.
But I can't bring myself to throw away who I am.
Even the worst parts of me.
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