Original version

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Pieces of me

Scattered, which broke away from me.

Leaving pieces of me

In pieces of shit,

they exploded

after having had a bomb in hand.

Staying with the whys

And the unanswered questions.

Without these pieces anymore,

I wonder

who pays

for breaking them.

I am doing it all,

holding the pieces,

but I can no longer put them back in their place.

Where was I going

in this feeling lost?

Now that maybe,

they are less

that half of me?

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