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Artist
I am irreparably broken.
Every tiny bone hurts and every thought hurts.
I tell myself, there is no love and I close my heart, and between my lips the Portuguese wine pierces, always, somehow succeeds.
It is stronger than my logic, than the facts, stronger than my mind, than pride. It makes me so small, it makes me non-human, non-woman. It makes me.. whatever it wants.
