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New Dad
May 14, 2011
I had bruises.
I have scars.
No, it wasn’t me who did it.
It was him. The ugly man.
With the ugly heart and the ugly hands.
They wrapped around my fragile neck.
“Accidents” all the time.
I used to cry. I was young.
Too young to know that it was wrong.
No one knows except for me.
Maybe he remembers, maybe not.
The smell of beer and disgusting smoke.
He used to scream while I choked.
© Anonymous
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