Red white and blue

I keep them in my little box of altoids. 
on the second shelf in a wooden decoration I made last time I was stuck

people broke my soul so I chose to cut the parts they didn't like 

The pain was my muse. And the red only increased the blue in the pit of my stomach

So I got to a point where only one was enough. One for everytime.

It sucks cuz I know there'll always be more room

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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